


Tumbl Into TAZ

by InterNutter



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Feeblemind, Fluff, Fountain of Youth, Gen, Illnesses, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Luume'irma, Mild drug mentions, Minor Magnus Burnsides/Taako, Panic Attacks, Sadcanon, Swearing, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-07-12 19:45:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 100
Words: 88,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16002011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InterNutter/pseuds/InterNutter
Summary: A collection of rambles and stories from my tumblr account so y'all don't have to go trawling through my blog to get to the good stuff.Warnings and rating for this story subject to change without notice. You probably won't have to be 18 or over to read this, but double-check the header when this updates, just to be certain.





	1. TAZ:BA thoughts

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The McElroy bros plus Dad own The Adventure Zone in general and the Balance Arc in particular. I just make a mess of all their wonderful toys.

[AN: Starting things off with an extended headcanon that seems real popular]

The mind-wipe changed Taako the worst because he forgot Lup.

During the stolen century, they were always the closest of the crew, and Lucretia can remember the exact moment that the twins accepted her because that was the year that Taako started stealing her clothes and mangling her name on purpose.

The few times that Taako died in those years, it was after that. Hand in hand with Lup, and making sure the ship got away because he knew he’d just pop back to that reset point.

He was always at his bravest when he had Lup’s hand to hold.

He was the last one Lucretia dropped off after the mind wipe. The one she was most concerned about. He was the one she watched carefully after setting him up with everything he needed for the travelling show. Watched him prepare a meal for a dozen people that she would never taste.

She’d wait a decade or more to taste those elderflower macaroons he made as a dessert.

Lucretia had thought he would be all right. She hadn’t counted on the drastic changes she’d made having a long-lasting impact.

Now there was no longer the twin with the reckless philosophy against her enemies, Taako was aloof and craven. His kleptomaniac side, always the chief source of his asshole moments, came to the fore. Because the only person Taako could rely on was Taako.

After the wipe, he NEVER used anyone’s name. He’d mangle their name if he trusted them enough (but there was no real trust there. Taako without Lup at his side never had anyone he could trust), but otherwise, it’s a constant stream of synonyms for ally or lover that mean nothing when they come spilling out of his lips.

So when Lucretia sees him again after a decade, there’s a heart-wrenching change from the Taako she knew. She lost track of him after the forty deaths at Glamour Springs. Nobody could find him after that. Authorities wanted to talk to him, but he just couldn’t be found. He never stayed in the same place for more than a day. Sometimes more than an hour. Sightings were brief and contradictory. He went off the grid so hard that he might as well have cast Blink and maintained it for four terrifying years. And yet, there he was.

The twins had had a hard youth and it left its mark. They’re short, for elves, and during the stolen century, it didn’t much matter. But here and now, Taako perpetually wears four-inch heels and a two-foot hat. But instead of the slight ‘puppy fat’ that marked the twins’ love of food and quality merchandise (they never had nice things when they were on the run), he’s now gaunt. Four years of thin rations and staying out of notice have stripped every ounce of fat off of him and the results horrify Lucretia.

But not more than the drastic change in his personality. When he enters her chambers, he’s the last through the door. His personal bubble is wider than anyone else’s and she can almost see it. His eyes are cold. HE is cold. Aloof and deliberately distant. His humour is cruel and tainted with acid.

Her fault. She removed Lup from his memories. And now there’s walls around his heart that would take supreme effort to get through.

And he steals a paperweight off her desk, right under her nose. Not for its monetary value, because it’s just an interesting rock she found one day (on a world none of the THB remember any more), but because stealing has become an essential survival habit. A reflex action. Of course she notices in a cold second and makes him put it back.

And when he says the words, “simple idiot wizard” it breaks her heart. Something happened to him, very likely in Glamour Springs, that took away all the faith he had in himself.

When she took Lup from his memories, she replaced him with a changeling. Taako isn’t Taako any more. And the only thing that broke him worse was when he  _ remembered _ , and he didn’t have one atom of himself to care with.

All that self-sabotage. All that self-depreciation. Even the literal flirting with Death. It all made sense because Lup wasn’t there.


	2. Free Scene for TAZ Ficcers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [BC I don’t have a whole story to go with this]

He saw his sister carrying a bunch of empty platters on his way to the Multiversal Ship Designing Think Tank.

“How’d it go?” he asked, knowing full well that he was using Bigby’s Hand to hold seven baskets full of assorted treats.

“They thanked me very much and told me to screw off in the nicest possible way. They even shaved a few inches off the bathroom, but it won’t do any good. I even told them I would sleep on a box on the floor if it would get us a bigger kitchen, babe. No soup.”

Anyone else would have said ‘no soap’, but this was a family quirk born out of going without and running for their lives for so very, very long.

“We’ll see where the ol’ Taako charm gets us, sis,” Taako breezed. “It’ll finally be proof that my cooking is, of course–”

“Horseshit?” suggested Lup.

Taako snapped his fingers. “Of course. I forgot to add the horseshit.” He laughed. “Gotta try it, right?”

“I’m seducing the captain, next,” said Lup.

“Don’t squash him,” cheered Taako. And sauntered onwards to the Think Tank suites. Where he found someone already willing to whine about his offerings before he got the chance.

“Oh gods, did the two of you have to try the same tactic on the same day?” whined the administrator. “And oh gods, you made  _ pastries…” _ She slurped back drool. “My diet is shot to hell.”

“Chill, you can have these whenever. See, I’ve wrapped them all in a little invention of mine. Taaako’s Utilitarian Preservation and Protection Envelopes. Everything in them stays as fresh and warm as the moment they went in. How’s TUPPEware suit you as a marketable thing? Copyright Taako.”

“It still won’t do you any good. We have to design a humane interior for seven people and weight is an issue. The bond engine…”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I heard the lecture from Doctor Whatsisface. Always wears blue jeans. Looks like Tom Arnold. You know the dude.”

“Yeah, we know him. He’s in here every other day telling us not to listen to people like you.”

Taako thought hard about blowing up her ass. Nope. Diplomacy. “Just for that little dig, I won’t tell you where I hid the cheesecake.”

“Caramel?”

“Saltwater taffy.”

“I’mverysorry, youcangorightinandnegotiatewitheveryoneontheteam.”

Taako handed her a large TUPPEware box on his way through.

“I love you forever, but my dietician hates your ass.”

“I get that a lot,” he chirped.

Inside the labyrinth of desks and drawing boards was less successful than Lup’s. Not even trying to sell them on TUPPEware was worth anything.

He propped up a support column and watched someone carefully inking the profile of the future multidimensional ship with care whilst he munched on some “I failed, oh well” cheer-himself-up cookie dough balls.

And he came up with an innocent question. “Hey, real quick, I gotta know. What are the masts for?”

“Huh?” said the inker.

“What are the masts for? Everything that moves the ship goes through the bond engine, right? All the helm shit goes to the ring in the rear. So… what are the masts for?”

The person doing the inking stared at their work in horror. Then slapped their tools down with an aggressive slap.

“I am going to need,” he said, “The biggest, richest, gooiest, most luxurious piece cake you have with  _ all _ the fucking cream, because…” he gestured at the work in progress. “DAMNIT!”

The entire office flinched.

“WE DON’T NEED FUCKING MASTS, GUYS! START GODSDAMN OVER. AND GIVE THESE MOTHERFUCKING ELVES THEIR  _ FUCKING _ KITCHEN.”

Taako gave him his  _ best _ fucking cake and an entire box of his deluxe coffee fudge. Poor fellow needed it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You, yes you, are free to use this particular chapter or scenes remarkably like it in any pre-launch fanfic you so choose. I only request that you link to this thing or to me, or otherwise let me know it exists because... Honestly? I really wanna see what y'all come up with.


	3. Nonny Request #1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked, "Can I request Lume Taako taking care of his sick grand children while parents are also recovering from said sickness? If that's alright. I just adore Taako taking care of his family. Or maybe a younger ango being kidnapped. I know he went ham over his matr..but over his baby...hoo boy. Anyhow I appreciate you reading this have a good day"

[AN: An Ango kidnapping would probably end the same way as  _ Killer Instinct _ with a traumatised Ango being cradled by a bloodstained Taako. I’m probably torturing my beautiful magic boy in another fic enough, so…]

The redolent smell of Ginger Garlic Chicken Soup filled Casa de Taako. For all that there were medicines, potions, and Clerics to help with any given illness, Taako still insisted that his ginger garlic chicken soup was all that anyone needed to recover from any disease known to intelligent life. Doctors everywhere hated him because he was more often right than wrong.

Taako had five humanmen going down with the seasonal sniffles, so he made sure he had the  _ big _ pot all but overflowing with chicken meat, ginger, garlic, and assorted vegetables, and simmering gently for anyone who wanted to drag themselves towards the soup and help themselves. And he kept three bowls at optimal temperature under Covers of Preservation for the smaller ones in his house.

Something… snapped. Like a switch being flipped inside Taako’s head. Soup was not enough to feed his babies. They needed tasty, good, good food. Almost in a dream state, Taako started baking and cooking all the best tempting foods in handful-size servings.

One of the babies had found his leg. Poor baby. Poor baby needed comfort. Taako scooped them up and, using Mage Hand to keep the food going, cuddled the small humanman and purred for him.

Amber was more likely to come and seek help. Aloe was more likely to hide and cry. Taako got them both into the cuddle cote before he finished up the treats for the babies.

_ His _ Baby still needed his sleep. Safe with mate. Taako left supplies on a handy table and under a magic cover and went back to the babies. They were warm and miserable and needing.

They needed cool. They needed clean. They needed good, good food and all the comfort Taako could provide.

Even in the throes of Luume, Taako wasn’t a barbarian. He did not lick these babies clean. What he did have was an abundant supply of cool, clean water and plenty of towelling.

Keep babies comfortable. Keep babies safe. Keep babies fed.

Check on his baby too. Sleeping. Cuddle baby’s babies. Purr. Comfort. Coo.

* * *

 

Angus felt like shit as he dragged himself out of the guest bedroom. Taako’s soup and tasty treats had helped rally his resources, but now he wanted a large beverage and he really needed to pee.

The house was dark.

Ominously quiet.

And a lot more food than normal waiting under assorted covers.

_ Uh oh… _ Knowing Taako as he did, Angus checked the Cuddle Cote.

The fairy lights were on. And inside were Agnes, Aloicious, and Ambrose. Or, as Taako referred to them, Aglet, Aloe, and Amber.

All of them tangled up in each other and all stripped down to their underthings. There were still moist towelling washers scattered around them all. Agnes had intricate braids in her hair. Aloicious and Ambrose were spread across their ‘grandfather’.

Taako was distress-purring in his sleep.

Angus crawled up to him and felt his brow. Feverish, and not just the feverish effects of Luume. But the feverish effects of the latest winter flu.

“Hachi machi, you’re going to be feeling this one,” he whispered.

Luume knocked Taako sideways at the best of times. The flu was going to knock any remaining piss out of him.

Angus arranged his kids into a cuddle pile and ferried some of Taako’s panacea soup into the cote. Best not to move him. He might get snarly. The most he did was arrange Taako so that he could eat and drink without moving very much at all.

And then it was just a matter of waking Taako up every half hour and feeding him as much soup as he could take.

* * *

“Is grampa better yet?”

“C’n I tickle him?

“Let grampa sleep,” said Agnes. “He’s had a rough time.”

“Did he have a silly again? He had a silly when we were born.”

Taako, feeling like he’d been dragged backwards through a hedge that was somehow simultaneously on fire and frozen solid. His head hurt. His joints hurt. His fucking  _ hair _ hurt. “Much though I love you all,” he croaked, “either shut up or fuck off. Pick one.”

“Grampa’s  _ sick…” _ said Aloe.

Someone wiped him down with a damp piece of terrytowelling.

“I have some of your soup, sir,” said Agnes. “If you want, I can feed it to you.”

Taako cracked open an eye. Light hurt. Even the dim fairy lights of the Cuddle Cote. “Good baby,” he sighed.


	4. Nonny Request #2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked, "May I request some Taako and Angus? Like say Angus( 10 year old Angus) is in fight or flight mode ( maybe hes delirious with fever, a nightmare. Or he was just attacked by someone and called for dads help) and Taako has to calm him down, purring for his magic boy. Thank you for taking the time to read this!"

Insomnia nights were hell. Taako slipped out of the dorm he shared with the meat shield, the pervert, and the drug addict to catch some fresh air out on the Bureau quad. Well. Fresher than the dorm’s air, anyway. Less filled with farts, for certain.

He’d always felt slightly more secure when he was close to nature. None of it was Elven nature, it was one hundred percent knowing that he’d got away from the people who were after his head. Or his ears. Or any other body part. Cities were food security. Forests and greenery were personal security. And the twain had not really met on a permanent basis for ninety years of his fucking trainwreck of a life.

But here? On manicured grass and near sculpted trees, Taako was wondering if he’d set off any alarms by lighting up a little dandelion. On one hand, Madame Director turned a blind eye to Pringles and his potions, and let Boyland smoke those horse-ass cigars… On the other hand, people never really smiled on an Elf high on weeds.

“Dad! Daddy! No!”

Taako slipped the tiny clay pipe back into a pocket before someone caught him and whirled to face the very young voice of a boy detective in distress.

He knew that look.

There was no time to ponder  _ how _ he knew that look. He just knew it. Night terrors plus disassociation plus one stinker of a nightmare lead to running around and not seeing reality, just yet. And the kid was headed right for one of the edges of the base.

Fuck.

Taako flying-tackled him before he could run right off the gods-damn thing. Suffered elbows and knees to places he much preferred a gentle caress from a willing adult. Rolled them both a little further away from the sheer drop.

And purred. Like a parent to a fussy child.

It was all he could think of to do for the boy. And if anyone heard it who knew anything about Elves, then they’d get a message that Taako wanted nobody to know. That he, Taako -you know, from TV- felt a familial protectiveness with this tiny, fancy lad.

It was entirely the kids fault. Lying about having a family and running a con on everyone around him so that he didn’t wind up in Fantasy Child Services and horseshit foster homes until he aged out of the system and they kicked him out. It was exactly the sort of thing that Taako had done when he was a kid. Taako had him clocked in a cold second with all that, “My grandpa forgot his name,” malarky.

And not wanting to admit he was  _ concerned _ at all, because that went against his brand, Taako took the brat under his wing as a student. Which gave him a perfect excuse to make sure Ango went to bed on time and got himself some decent meals and had time to just enjoy himself and all that other crap.

And that now gave him an excuse to drag him backwards out of one rip-snorter of a fucking nightmare, by the looks of things.

Ango relaxed in his arms.

“There, now,  _ meldavó. _ Ssh-ssh-ssh…”

Angus stiffened. “Sir?”

If Taako was good at anything, it was the nine-hundred-yard backpedal. “You had a nightmare and nearly ran right off the fucking moon, dumbass. I can call you anything I like.”

He was still staring into his dreams. “No! Don’t burn me!”

Fuck. “Hey. Hey now. This is another lesson. Breathe deep. Tell me five things you see.”

He blinked, seemingly looking at two Taakos at once. Though that was a good thought, a definite improvement on the world, one was a nightmare and therefore intolerable.

“Come on, Agnes. Five things you can see. Names. Chop-chop.”

“Uh. Sky. Other moon. You. Grass. Oh shit, we’re so close to an edge, sir.”

“Good, good,” Taako cooed, now focussing on carrying them both away from a five billion yard drop to certain doom. “I need you to name four things you can hear, now.”

“Um. Your voice? My voice? The levitation spell keeping us up. Um. And. The night pumps, sir.”

“Very good. You’re doing great. Three things you can feel. Name ‘em. And try for sentences, this time.”

He was shaking less. Breathing easier. “I can feel… you. I can feel the cool night air. Andum… I can feel your Umbrastaff vibrating, sir. It kind’a tickles.”

Huh. He swore he left that thing in the dorm. Yet there it was, hooked on his right arm like it belonged there. And it was vibrating a little bit. “Don’cha dare set fire to anything,” he muttered at it. There was a bench. He set them both down. “You’re doing fantastic, Pumpkin. Now open up those nose nostrils and name me two things you can smell.”

Angus sniffed. “I can smell petrichor, it’s just rained. And… I can smell the cafeteria warming up for the breakfast rush.”

Taako slipped him a candy. “And finally, one thing you can taste.”

“It’th one of your potht party peppermintth, thir,” said Angus around the sweet. “The one you take when you don’ want Madam Director knowing that you’ve had a few drinkth.”

And the other reason he wouldn’t admit he loved Angus was that the kid could be a right little shit at times. It made Taako’s black and icy heart melt a little. “That’s called a grounding exercise, kiddo. Sometimes, the ole noggin can run away with ya. When things seem to unreal to be real, that’s what you do. Five senses. Five, four, three, two, one. Last one’s always taste. First one’s always sight ‘cause the eyes can lie and y’ need more proof, dig?”

“You get nightmareth too, thir?”

“Fucking howlers,” Taako said. “That exercise helps. That, and pocket pudding.” He pulled out a handful of butterscotch flavour. “Want some?”

“Euw, thir. That’th grothth.”

“More for me,” he chirped, and started licking it off his hand. “If the night terrors are a regular thing, get’cherself a sleepy sack before you fall off the base. Not that I care, but it’s bad for the brand if my first apprentice jumps off the fucking moon.”

Angus, who no doubt read him like a book, said, “I’ll get one from Fantathy Cothtco ath thoon ath poththible, thir.”

“Great.”

Angus started chewing the hard candy.

“And remember to brush your teeth. Can’t have an apprentice with cavities.”

He picked at his teeth for a bit. “I know what  _ meldavó _ means, sir. And I won’t tell.”

Taako didn’t say, “You better fuckin’ not.” Just sized him up, one small-time villain to another. Little shit had himself a bunch of better chances just by being so fucking  _ nice _ to everyone. He knew the kid was playing him just as much as the kid knew that Taako knew it.

“Good,” Taako said eventually. And then, “Also don’t tell Herself that I’m smoking.” And, alarms or not, he lit his pipe.

 

[AN: meldavó - “beloved son” thanks to  [ https://www.elfdict.com/ ](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.elfdict.com%2F&t=YzBlMTMwMTViOThkMGZjYTEwMTU3Yzg0MGRkMmI2ZjllYjRiNDYzOSxYVU82RTZ0Nw%3D%3D&b=t%3ATgFobn6zg5SomzVkFhVbfw&p=http%3A%2F%2Finternutter.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F177222292684%2Fmay-i-request-some-taako-and-angus-like-say&m=0) ]


	5. Nonny Request #3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked, "May I request Taako and Angus, and Angus going through some growing pains? Getting taller, eating more the whole shebang. Or great grandmother Raven Queen meeting her great grand kids. Thank you for taking the time to read this. Have a good day"

[AN: Why not both?]

Time can make the world strange. Taako could have sworn that when he hugged Angus goodnight, he had been able to rest his chin on top of his curly head. This morning, With Angus limping about the kitchen, their cheeks touched when he gathered his miserable boy up in his arms.

“Should I call Merle?” he asked.

Angus made the ‘I dunno’ noise. Sitting and rubbing his legs with a grimace. “It’s just growing pains, sir. Not a lot to be done about it.”

“Y’know. Apart from stopping with all the growing,” sniped Taako. He cooked up a nutritious meal that could cure anything from a bad mood to a near death experience.

“Don’t think that’s possible, sir,” He audibly winced before snorking down his hot meal like he hadn’t eaten in three days or longer.

“Slow down before you choke, Agnes…”

“Sorry, sir. I’m kind’a hungry. Actually, I’m real hungry.”

Taako rolled his eyes. Humans and their growth spurts. He got his Stone of Farspeech out and called his sister.

“Painful embrace of death,” she answered. “How can I inflict your call?”

“Yo, sis. Got us a growing lad with longer, empty legs to fill. You up for an epic cook-off?” And then winced and pulled away as Lup shrieked down the connection.

“HELLFUCK YEAH! THIS BEATS THE FUCK OUTTA PAPERWORK BRO!” She lowered her voice. “Gimmie ten, I gotta sneak away from Bird Mom.”

“Yeah, you just fucked your stealth check, sis. I’ll give you twenty.”

And while he was waiting, he could fry up something with lots of protein and calcium. Eggs, salmon, some spinach for iron, a spare dash of cheese. Hopefully it would hold his boy over until Lup dropped by and things went really crazy.

–Some Decades Later–

The Raven Queen had hundreds of children. What she never expected was grandchildren. Or great-grandchildren. All of that came from adopting The Twins.

She had made the mistake of calling Lup  _ daughter. _ Where one twin went, the other was bound to follow. She was mother to two living creatures. And when one adopted Angus McDonald, he counted as her grandson.

And now, there was another generation.

It had been the shock of her… existence… to discover that she had a great-grandchild. This was a first. But then… there were lots of firsts with the Seven Birds in the mix.

She was currently manifesting as a black-robed elderly woman. Naught but a raven tattoo on one cheek to identify her as anything other than mortal.

“Her name is Agnes,” whispered Taako, looking down at the very small human asleep in the crib. “My son named her on purpose. He’s such a little shit.”

Coming from anyone else, those words would be disparaging. Taako, on the other hand, sounded prouder than punch.

The sleeping infant flexed her tongue in her sleep, but otherwise remained unaware that Death was so close. This child was hers by laws written by the hearts of two aliens from a different realm of reality.

A welcome change from the children that ill-advised necromancers sacrificed to her.  _ This _ child would have a genuine life in the Prime Material Plane. And she was one of her guardians.

“She will have a long life,” said the Raven Queen.

“Good to know,” whispered Taako. “Not gonna stop anyone checking on her while she’s this little though.”

“Of course not,” she cooed. “No decent parent would do less.” And the Goddess reached down to gently stroke Agnes’ head.

Agnes wouldn’t know it for years, but she was the first Human infant to know the touch of Death and be able to tell the tale.


	6. Nonny Request #4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked, "can I request some Taakitz with a dash of small Ango? like, a 4 year old Angus has just been adopted by Taako and Kravitz and today they're having a summer celebration for him, and it's just a family get together, meeting Aunt Lup and Uncle Barry for the first time, getting his first toy ever from Magnus. If you wouldn't mind. Thanks for taking the time to read this!"

There was music. Someone humming. The bed was soft and warm and Angus almost didn’t want to wake up because he was sure it was a dream. That if he opened his eyes, he would be warm because one of the other kids had peed on his bed, which was only ever warm when that happened. The rest of the time, the metal cots of the orphanage were permanently cold, lumpy, and damp.

But there was never any music in the orphanage. And as his bedroom door creaked, bringing the humming closer, Angus opened his eyes and found the blur that was his spectacles. This couldn’t be the orphanage. They made him wait in line for them. And took them away at night. Here, he had a say in when he could see.

The humming person sparkled, and the blur of their head was mostly golden. That meant it had to be Mr Taako. Angus put his glasses on and smiled because he had it exactly right. Mr Taako kept humming as he drew the curtains. “Mornin’ little man. Do you know what today is?”

“Tuesday the fifteenth?”

“Technically correct,” said Mr Taako. “Today’s your party day, Angus. You are now and forever  _ officially _ part of the family. Which means that  _ you, _ my lovely little human bean,” Mr Taako added a playful boop to Angus’ nose, “get to meet the rest of our strange breed.”

It still seemed impossible. He hadn’t thought anyone could ever want a nerdy little kid like him, who only ever wanted to read in quiet corners, and whom all the other kids picked on. And, now that he had to mention it, was four years old and already knew how to use words like ‘whom’ properly.

“Are you sure they’ll like me, sir?”

There was that look again. Mr Taako had heterochromia, and his mismatched eyes echoed a pain that Angus couldn’t understand. And there was sympathy there, and more than a little sorrow. “Angus. My dude. They are going to love you because  _ we _ love you. You’re family. You gotta love family.”

There was a second figure in the doorway. All shades of black and silver. “Dove, something in the kitchen is beeping and I know you told me to stay out of there…” Mr Kravitz looked vaguely worried.

“Fine. You take over with the bathing and dressing then. I’ll rescue the whatever.” Mr Taako swept a casual hand along Angus’ arm as he left, and passed Mr Kravitz by gathering him up in a kiss and a hug and sort of dancing his way through the door. He left pink lipstick on Mr Kravitz’s face, and Mr Kravitz didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. Mr Taako rushed off with a, “Later, babe.”

“Love you, babe,” Mr Kravitz called back. He cleared his throat and put on one of his silly voices. “Roight,” he said. “I see we ‘ave ‘ere a desperate case of a small boy still in ‘is pajamjams. I ‘ereby sentence ‘im to a bubble bath followed by a roight proper dressin’ up.”

The voice always made Angus giggle. In fact, it had been the first thing that he had ever dared laugh at.

Mr Kravitz hugged him out of bed and carried him to the bathroom. It had a tub so big that four orphanage kids could easily occupy it, and it was always sparkling. Sparkling clean and just plain sparkling because every surface seemed made to glitter or gleam.

The water was steaming, but Mr Kravitz made certain that it wasn’t too hot, and let Angus pick the scent of the bubbles. Both Mr Kravitz and Mr Taako were always so careful at bath time. They never got soap in his eyes when doing his hair and they were never rough with him.

The nurses at the orphanage always plunged him into tepid, soapy water and gave him a thorough going-over with a scrubbing brush and lye soap. And the towels there were rough, mean things.

Not here. Here, Angus got a big, fluffy towel that could have been a blanket if it wanted to be. And then a bathrobe for the trip back to his room. Where he had license -after putting on his own undies- to pick out the clothes he wanted to wear that day.

His eye lingered on the dress with rainbows of mermaid sequins on it that Mr Taako had picked for him when they were shopping, but he wasn’t quite brave enough to try it on, just yet. He picked a staid and sensible pair of short pants, a button-down shirt, and a sweater-vest. And a bow-tie. He finished the look with a fancy cap with a feather in it. They were good clothes.

Mr Kravitz oversaw the shoes and socks. “Happy with this look?” he said.

“Yes, sir.” He looked exactly like one of the fancy boys he’d only seen from a distance. Walking hand-in-hand with a caregiver or staring out of coaches and bored by the fact that they could actually sit in a coach. “I’m starting to feel like this is really real.”

Mr Kravitz offered his hand, and Angus didn’t mind that his grasp was a little on the chilly side. Angus had never really had a caregiver to hold his hand and rather liked the privilege.

When they got downstairs, there were two Mr Taako’s. Side by side and cooking together as if they had been like that forever. Except  _ one _ of him had their eyes around the wrong way. Green and amber instead of amber and green.

And she had a slightly different voice. “Oh wow,” she said. “Koko, I’m stealing your baby.”

“You and Barold are capable of making your own,” said Mr Taako. He had said he had a twin, but hadn’t mentioned how very much alike they looked.

“You must be Ms Lup,” Angus said. “Hello, ma’am.”

“Are you always this formal, kiddo?” asked Ms Lup.

“Yes’m. May I have a cookie, please?”

“One condition,” she juggled one off the cooling rack. “Say the worst word you know.”

“Do  _ not _ corrupt my son, Lulu.”

Angus felt like he wanted to cry. He looked up to Mr Kravitz for permission.

“Go on. I’m sure we all know worse ones.”

Angus took a deep breath. Summoned up all his courage. Screwed his eyes shut and said, “Boogerface!”

Which earned him peals of laughter from Ms Lup and one cookie per hand. “You’re adorable. And too cute.” She knelt on the floor and smiled. “I’m your Auntie Lup and you will never,  _ ever _ be able to get rid of me.”

Mr Taako said, “Ain’t  _ that _ the fuckin’ truth.”

Ms Lup leaped up, “Oh shit, you said fuck!”

Mr Taako countered, “Oh fuck, you said shit!” And both of them laughed.

Mr Kravitz urged Angus out into the garden. “Let’s meet some others before those two expand your vocabulary.”

The first of the ‘others’ that Angus met was not a person, but an enormous dog. Angus turned away from trying to peek back at Mr Taako and Ms Lup to come face to whiffling nose with the biggest dog he had ever seen in his life.

“Johann! Down.”

And like a miracle, the dog was lying on the ground, legs tucked under its body and tail wagging optimistically. There was a big man, bigger than Mr Kravitz, who looked like he could wrestle a bear and win. He had bigger muscles even than Mr Thud, the orderly who dragged off the kids who got way too rowdy.

Angus was clinging tight to Mr Kravitz’s leg and willing himself not to hide.

The giant sat down on the ground and gentled his voice. One hand was on the dog and the other was on his knee. “Hey, little buddy,” he cooed. “It’s okay. I know you’re scared, and I promise I won’t hurt you. My name’s Magnus Burnsides, and I work with Taako from time to time.”

Angus slackened his grip on Mr Kravitz, who was gently patting Angus’ hair and shoulders. He tried to speak, but all that came out was a whisper. “That’s the biggest dog I ever saw…”

Mr Burnsides didn’t say anything like, “He’s just a puppy,” or, “He’s just a big softie.” What he did say was, “Yeah, I guess he might be. He’s bigger than you, I saw that. But he’s a good dog, and you can come pet him if you want to.”

Angus shook his head.

“Do you want to see the smallest dog ever?” asked Mr Burnsides.

Nod.

Mr Burnsides reached into a bag he had  slung over one shoulder and opened his palm to reveal a ball of fluff that opened beady eyes and yawned. “This is Mitzy. She’s a Pomeranian, and she’s also a puppy. I’m in the middle of being her mom, so she sleeps in the bag to stay warm. In fact, it’s almost time to give her a bottle of milk. Would you like to help?”

Nod.

In ten minutes, he was helping bottle feed the tiniest and fluffiest puppy in the world, and running a careful hand gently along the cloud of her fur. She was softer than the cats that shared this house with Mr Taako and Mr Kravitz. And Angus had almost forgotten about being afraid of either Mr Burnsides or Johann, who was leaning his head on Angus’ knee and trying to look pitiful for the hope of sausage.

Mitzy, once she was done having her bottle, had to go back into the bag so she could sleep and grow. Mr Burnsides had a Rock of Heat in there, all wrapped up in a hand-knitted cosy so that Mitzy wouldn’t accidentally get hurt.

There were lots of people by the time Mitzy had to go back to the bed in the bag. Most of them were grownups and most of them were very pointedly leaving Angus to his own devices. Not in a mean way, like the people in the orphanage who had too much to do and never enough time. This was…

This was the older Human woman in the blue robes who, between this or that sentence, looked over at Angus to make sure he was okay.

This was the Gnome, his grey hair barely restrained in a series of ties and braids, casually passing by now and again with a look of concern on his face.

This was the older Human man with the dad bod, the glasses, and the mullet; sending covert hand signals to Mr Burnsides that weren’t that covert but still checking that all was well.

This was the old Dwarf restraining his rambunctious, loud, and enthusiastic son with friendly wrestling and tickles, while his daughter attempted to lecture the boy about how he should learn to be careful with ‘fragile people’.

This was Mr Taako asking permission to pick him up and introduce him to everyone.

This was Ms Lup kissing his forehead as she embraced them both in her arms.

This was Mr Kravitz rubbing his back as he smooched Mr Taako.

This was Ms Carey and Ms Killian asking to hold him and ruffling his hair and saying how jealous they were that they didn’t get Angus first and insisting that they were now his Aunts despite obviously not being related to anyone else here.

This was people caring for each other.

_ Once upon a time there was a little boy who gave up. He learned fast, and what he learned was that the people around him were too busy to care. They took care of him, that was true, but they did so in a mechanical and functional way. He had food to eat. He was clean. He had clothes and shelter and a place to sleep. But he had no choices, no options, and not a scrap of sympathy. He learned to hide in plain sight. Be unimportant. And though the bullies and the nasty people were still nasty, they sort of gave up too. And the people who took kids to new homes took the babies, and they took the kids who performed well for the visits. They never looked at Angus. Until one did. _

Mr Bluejeans was married to Ms Lup. A fact Angus found out as he was watching Mr Taako and Mr Kravitz slow dance to music that only they could hear. Mr Bluejeans was soft and warm and a little awkward, and the most important thing was he was honest.

“You’re lucky Taako found you before Lup did, I think,” he said, apropos of nothing. “Lup’s… I love her, I married her, I became a lich with her, but…”

“She’s bright and loud,” said Angus, and flinched a little.

But Mr Bluejeans laughed. “Yeah. She’s bright and loud and she doesn’t use her middle gears a lot. She’d have scared you, during those first few weeks.”

A little bolder, Angus said, “Everything scared me during those first few weeks.”

Captain Davenport, sitting nearby, said, “You’re allowed to talk about it. If you want to.”

Angus spoke about the first handful of days when Mr Taako and Mr Kravitz learned not to come in to Angus’ space without some form of warning. How they would hum and sing and talk to themselves as they moved around the house so that Angus would know that they weren’t sneaking up on him. He spoke of how they were careful to have his permission to touch him, and how they learned so hard what was right for Angus. And how Taako offered to cook Angus’ favourite and the little boy had cried because he hadn’t known what his favourite food was. And most importantly of all, how he didn’t know at all why two people that in love, and that helpful, and that careful could want an invisible kid like Angus.

“He didn’t tell you?” said his Auntie Lup. “We used to be invisible kids, once. We made a career out of it.”

_ Once upon a time there were two kids who only had each other. They were too old to be cute and too young to be that alone. They didn’t have an orphanage and learned to rely on the kindness of strangers. Which wasn’t all that reliable. They learned fast and hard to be friendly and useful and very, very careful around angry people. They learned that the world was harsh and cruel and so many were out to get them simply because they were invisible kids. They worked when they should be playing. They starved when they should be eating. They huddled together for warmth when they should have had shelter and a bed and even someone who took care of them. The one called Lup grew a hard shell and lost her middle gears and fought the world. The one called Taako learned to wheedle and bargain and negotiate and lie his way around all their problems. They knew what being invisible was like. _

The biggest shock of the evening was that Angus was taller than Mookie. The rambunctious Dwarven boy was only up to Angus’ shoulders, but he filled the space around him with an aura of indomitable glee for life, the world, and anything in it he could wrestle with. But Mookie also saw the fading bruises from the last people to mishandle Angus ever and he actually quieted down.

“People used t’ hurt’cha. Didn’t they?”

Angus pulled the long sleeves back down and didn’t look at anything.

“It’s okay,” said Mookie in the closest thing he had to a whisper. Which was just a little bit softer than his usual shout. “When ya wanna… Magnus an’ Carey an’ Killian an’ me can show you how to beat up people like that so they never hurt’cha again.”

It was the first time Angus had ever heard a kid refer to adults by their given names.

This was people saying,  _ You are not alone. _ In every way they knew how.

_ Once upon a time, there was a little boy who gave up… And he was found by someone who had been a little boy who once had nothing but one special sister. Together, with all his friends, they all made a family… _

It was a special day, so it was extra long. Mookie wore himself out wrestling Uncle Magnus’ dogs, Uncle Magnus, and Carey and Killian. And now he was curled up with the dozy dogs in a corner that promised to be out of the weather.

Mavis had curled up with a book in one of the cotes tucked in random places in this house.

All the adults were seated in a different one, all in a big circle. They were drinking wine and talking across purposes and laughing together and Angus leaned against Taako while Kravitz draped an arm around his shoulders. Every now and again, one or the other would lean over and they would kiss.

Angus had never stayed up before, and he felt safe enough to deny being tired. Despite blinking for very, very, very long times. Until he had one blink between that night and the next morning.

He woke up in someone’s arms. He woke up to the sound of purring. Purring that came from Taako and at least three of the household cats, who were arranged on both him  _ and _ Taako and somehow most of the gigantic cote they were still in. There was a fluffy blanket over them both.

Angus felt a moment of panic because he was no longer wearing his glasses, but the instant he moved, he felt them under his pillow.

Kravitz was singing an early morning singing song that contained a lot of ‘la’s and ‘low’s and sounded happy.

Angus cleaned his glasses on his shirttails and attempted to wriggle free of Taako, who mumbled an incomprehensible complaint and gripped a little tighter. All unthinking, he said, “Papa, let me up? I need to go pee.”

Taako said, “Mrmblmrf,” but let him go.

Angus found his shoes in the cote, but didn’t know how to do the laces without Kravitz’s help, so he picked them up and attempted to tippy-toe at least to the nearest bathroom.

This old house had once belonged to Taako’s grandfather. Some bathrooms had been modernised but most of them were still old-style garderobes that were a simple pit that lead down to the shaped tree’s roots. This, thankfully, was one with a proper porcelain throne in there.

Angus was rightfully scared of the garderobes.

As he emerged to solve the problem of where to wash his hands, Kravitz spotted him and switched to speaking. “Good morning, starshine. I’ve made some scrambled eggs. You hungry for that?”

“Yes please,” he said. “But I gotta wash my hands. Where–?”

“I’ll let you use the kitchen sink,” he nodded towards it. “Remember the soap.”

In a house where every room that had water also had at least fifteen different kinds of soap? Hard to forget. Angus picked the one that smelled like limes and lathered extensively.

Kravitz helped him dry off and assisted in sitting him on one of the tall kitchen stools.

The eggs were big and fluffy and perfect, and though Angus could choose between a dazzling array of condiments, he stuck with salt. At least for today.

And all unthinking, Angus said, “Thanks, Dad.”

Taako came stumbling into the room. Yesterday’s sparkling clothes all rumpled and his golden hair askew. “I had a wonderful dream,” he yawned. “That our beautiful little boy called me ‘Papa’.”

The way he said that made Angus brave enough to say, “I did call you ‘papa’. Is… that okay?”

Taako wrapped him up in a hug. Smooched his cheek. “Darling, it’s the absolute best.”

Angus ate his eggs and watched as his parents devolved from cleaning the kitchen to slow-dancing to music only they could hear. Everyone else had gone to their respective homes, but Angus knew they would be back. All at once or one at a time, they would be back.

He had a family, now.


	7. Nonny Request #5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked, can I request the moment that Angus knew he was in love with Agatha? or just some Romantic Angus and Agatha? thanks for taking the time to read this and have a nice day!

[AN: This took me a while, my life has bit a teensy bit sideways lately]

Ominous chanting, necromantic homunculi, a  _ succubus _ of all creatures and a really, really stupid offshoot of the Cult of Yug-Rathoth[1]. Could things possibly get worse?

Professor Angus McDonald, one day away from graduating from Boy Genius to just plain Genius, really should have known better than to ask that question. The universe always loved to answer it by demonstrating how, exactly, things could go from bad to worse.

Besides, in his lifetime, he had met extra-dimensional aliens, been adopted by Death, been also adopted by said aliens, worked to defeat a multi-planar menace that even  _ Jeffandrew _ had needed assistance with defeating… oh, and solved so many crimes that he had actually lost count. He had experienced, up close and personal, exactly how things could go wrong, and how badly it did when it happened.

Therefore, the small figure in the upper gallery should not have been a shock. During his youth, Angus had been told numerous times not to meddle in affairs way above his education grade, pay grade, and - how old are you, kid? Yeah, you must be this tall to enter crime fighting, there, Junior.

Now it looked like someone else was just as bad at listening to authority figures as he was. And, oh shit, they had an Obscura 6000.

The latest from Miller Labs, those who didn’t have the time, energy, or inclination to sit with a piece of paper and a magic marker could now capture a moment in mere instants. It used, in Taako’s words, an unholy mish-mash of magic to accomplish it, including Miller Labs’ Artificial Eye. Which needed a lot of light to function properly. Which, in turn, had lead to the invention of the Nova Flash. Which technically counted as a weapon in many circles.

It was time to pull a Taako.

What was the highest-level spell he could use that could incapacitate these walking offal-bags without harming the photographer upstairs? Ah. All these chucklefucks were in a thirty-foot circle.

Angus ducked out of hiding and cast Weird on them. Just as the figure above primed the Obscura 6000 and said, “Smile for the front page, boys.”

_ Whoomph. _

Angus had employed his smoked glass lenses for this turn. And closed his eyes.  _ And _ raised his wand arm so that it should obscure any flash.

He  _ still _ saw his bones when the light went off.

The chucklefucks were blinded. Angus wasn’t much better and the mystery person in the gallery, shielded by her own tech, said,  _ “Professor McDonald?” _ in an awed yawp.

Angus summoned his invisible servant, Reeves, and bade it escort him out of the danger zone.

Someone was floating his way. He could tell by the softly flapping fabric. “So sorry about that,” she said. “Agatha Tremaine, investigative reporter. I had no idea that you were this close to that case.” Her feet finally touched the ground. “If you let me give you a piggyback, I can Expeditious Retreat our way out of here while the authorities arrive.”

Taako and Carey should have dealt with the wards by now. “Well, yes. The Bureau forces are on their way. I was sent ahead to make sure they didn’t up the odds on us.” He still allowed her to give him a piggyback, dismissing Reeves as the cult wasted their turns and spell slots on thin air and each other.

Pattering feet and a rush of air. Cool brick against his back. A warm presence that smelled of Sweet Nectar, one of the lower-end ladies’ perfumes. A little went a very long way and, judging by the scent, she had either watered it down or was using it very sparingly.

“We should be out of the line of fire, here.”

“Great. We can talk about how an  _ investigative _ reporter didn’t know the best people were on the case and nearly fucked up the entire mission.”

“It’s not my fault you never tell the press anything…”

“No, it’s the fault of hundreds of snoops like you getting in the way, getting in danger, and gumming up the works of a finely-tuned crime-fighting machine.”

Something exploded. Great. Auntie Lup was in the mix.

“Sounds like it slipped a cog.”

Sigh. “No. That’s Lup doing her thing. She likes to make certain that any transgressors regret it for the last milliseconds of their lives.”

“Wow. I wish I could get pictures, but that was my last Big Bang.”

Even though he couldn’t see her, he leveled a glare at her. “Your last what now?”

“Nova Flash is fine for taking pictures and temporary incapacitation, but if you want a baddie blinded for twenty minutes or more, you need better than that. So… I invented the Big Bang. Fifty times brighter than a Nova and with that long-lasting kick that means they’re out of the game until it’s over.” She sounded so very enthusiastic about it all. “And it gives great fidelity. Just loo- oh.”

“When will this wear off for me?”

“Oh. Whoops. Here.” A small phial pressed into his hands. “Potion of seeing. Lasts just as long as the ill effects from the Big Bang.”

It tasted like Jersey Caramels. Angus blinked and… smiling back at him was a lovely young lady about his age. She had Tinkers’ Goggles on her head, holding down her Newsie cap. A bandolier of potions hung across her torso and her satchel of holding had her Obscura 6000 poking out of it. And some impressive tools. Her hand, still holding his, bore the distinctive stains of a potions brewer and alchemist.

“You’ve multiclassed,” he said. “Alchemy, tinkering, potions… why are you just a  _ newsie?” _ Oops. He hadn’t meant to sneer in her direction. “The Bureau should have snapped you up ages ago.”

“I keep getting letters from them. Well. From people pretending to be them. After the fifth death trap I stopped paying any attention to them. Did you know? There’s even people who tracked me down pretending to be from there.”

“Were any of them wearing bracers like this one?” Angus showed his left arm.

Agatha stared. “That’s… not a fake.”

“It’d be a shock to everyone if it was,” Angus joked. “How many fakes have you seen?”

“Fifteen of varying quality. The ones you can get from the costume stores get told to go home and think about what they’ve done. I’ve taken notes about the others.” She had a Book of Transcription. What she wrote on those pages would appear in its clone, doubtless in a very safe place, for the erudition of another. There, in the pages, in tiny writing, was all the details the Bureau would ever need about the false Bureaus they had been hunting down since they went public.

Angus had to use his magnifying glass to read it all. “This is amazing. I take it you didn’t fall for any of their shenanigans.”

“Only the most convincing one,” Agatha pointed to the most realistic bracer variant. “Good thing I always give them my ‘special’ tea.”

“Sleepy drops and truth serum?” Angus guessed.

“More or less right on the money.”

“Madam,” said Angus, just as the main warehouse imploded. “How would you like to work with us?”

It was, compared to  _ some _ members of the family, a whirlwind romance[2]. They shared their first kiss after a week of working together, in congratulations for busting the most dangerous ring of Bureau impersonators.

After that, their missions out in the field were more like dates, replete with witty repartee. He even proposed during a mission where they were posing as newlyweds. The kissing, the champagne, and her no-nonsense way had all gone to his head and he didn’t regret an instant of it.

After all, when you find a truly competent woman, who isn’t already involved with someone smarter or faster than you, you do not let her go.

[1] Why DO all of those Lovecraftian cults exist anyway? If something was gonna eat me whether I wanted it or not, I sure as sugar would do my best to firkin starve that mofo. Or at least poison it.

[2] Barry and Lup took almost fifty years to admit they were in love. Magnus and Julia had to stage a rebellion before they got married. Taako and Kravitz finally tied the knot after two years of living together. By comparison, Angus and Agatha’s six-month engagement was very rapid indeed.


	8. Nonny Request #6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked, there's a post where this person dries catnip, and he comes home to find all the cats in his house stoned out of his mind. Well, I was thinking that since elves are so cat like, imagine if Merle had left some sort of root to dry and as a result, accidentally, our half elven boy ( I sometimes see him as an elf, or half sometimes not, but in this case yes) just stoned out of his mind eyes wide ears straight up. could be cute. if you don't mind, have a good day

Taako, finally taking his honeymoon, had left Angus with Magnus. This was the sane and sensible thing to do because literally everyone else was busy except Merle. And nobody with any sense in their noggins left kids alone with Merle. He was, without a doubt, the world’s worst babysitter.

Then Magnus had had a dog emergency and, rather than traumatise a six-year-old boy[1] with a lot of big, loud dogs… went to the only port in the metaphorical storm.

Merle.

The good news was that Merle had nothing further planned than a little gardening[2] and beach play with his own kids. The bad news, naturally, was that this was _Merle._ He had a laissez-faire attitude to child-rearing at the best of times and tended to treat kids like slightly incompetent adults who just needed a few more experience points from the school of hard knocks.

“And if you go near any plants, keep it PG or I swear to Jeffandrew…”

“So… violent and juicy mutilation is in, but sex is out,” said Merle.

“What? No! Don’t do any of that shit. Merle… Pan-damnit… You know Angus is a little… okay, he needs _gentleness._ Got it?”

“Ah, he needs a little toughening up, right kiddo?”

“Ms Carey and Ms Killian have been teaching me how to defend myself, sirs,” said Angus. “Last time, I tossed Ms Killian five feet.”

Magnus said, “If you make him cry, Taako will literally kill you. If you traumatise him, Taako will literally kill you. If you–”

“I get it, I get it. Relax. We’re all keeping our clothes on. Gimmie the kid. He’ll be fine.”

Magnus had his doubts, but he also had twenty rescued fighting dogs to re-train and pacify. “No adventuring.”

“No adventuring,” sighed Merle.

* * *

 

The first thing Angus noticed about Merle’s home was how everything was far more convenient for someone of his height. Well. Apart from bumping into the odd light fixture.

Small wonder that the family chose to gather in Chesney’s, which was more… open plan. Open to the sky, open to the beach air, open enough for a gargantuan to sit and quaff if they so wished…

This place had a different aura. It had the closed-in safe feeling of one of Papa’s cuddle cotes, but the organic coziness of an underground burrow. And yet, thanks to skylights and assorted glowing things, there was plenty of light. No scary shadows to haunt Angus’ active imagination.

And green things literally _everywhere._ Potted plants. Hanging plants. Plants in sconces. Plants hanging off the walls. If it wasn’t covered in leaves, it was furniture. There was even a carpet of soft moss on the floor.

“It’s like this,” said Merle, “It’s soft, it’s used to getting walked on, and I don’t need to vacuum. It’s win-win.”

Angus got to bunk with Mookie, and set his little suitcase on the empty bed. After that, it was out into the jungle that Merle called a garden.

“Aah, would ya look at that,” he cooed. “The Dreamroot is flowering.”

They looked relatively unattractive. Five upright stalks attached to five small and boring flowers, almost lost in the larger handspan-diameter leaves.

“Dreamroot, sir?”

“It’s a herb. Got me a lot of herbs growing here. This little fella…” he tickled a leaf, coughed, and held his hands behind his back. “Well, it’s used by lots of folks as a sleep aid. Deep sleep, restful dreams… something about Elves, I forget the rest of the mnemonic.” He shrugged. “My stores are low, so you can help me prep this baby for the potion pot.”

The flower smelled… very nice. It made Angus feel happy, so he bent over to sniff it a lot as he helped Merle extract as much of the thick, tuberous root as possible.

“Don’t mind that the thin little hairs snap off, it’s okay. That’s one of the ways that it spreads. Those roots send up new shoots, and they become new Dreamroot plants. It’s all part of the wonders of nature.”

“The PG wonders of nature,” said Angus, who was feeling giggly.

“Yeah. Sure.”

“What does PG stand for?”

Merle didn’t answer that, but got him and Mavis inside for some prep work. The leaves, flowers and stems were all cut off and hung upside-down, but the peel had to come off the root and the rest of it had to be sliced thinly so it could dry properly. Which meant running pieces of it through the mandoline and into a bowl of water.

Angus didn’t feel it when he cut himself. Not even when Mavis washed it, patted it dry, and cast Cure Wounds. He just thought it was so funny.

Mavis said, “Maybe you should go outside to play with Mookie for a while.”

That was a great idea.

He charged outside and tackled Mookie and showed him some moves and splashed around in the water and chased birds and wrestled with Mookie and chased birds and splashed around in the water and ran up and down the beach and around the house and through all the hallways and wrestled with Mookie and made a lot of noise and the drying cupboard smelled _so nice_ and he felt so good about the world and he laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed…

The mnemonic Merle forgot went, _Deep sleep, restful dreams, but give to Elves to make them scream._

* * *

 

“On the plus side, he’s quiet now.”

“Fuck you, Merle, he’s stoned out of his little gourd. You gave him _drugs,_ Merle.”

“Not intentionally!”

Angus, clutched tight in Taako’s arms, was drooling a little. His body was limp, but his eyes were wide and his pupils were dilated. His ears were pointed straight up and vibrating slightly.

“Meeerrrrrrlllle…” Taako had only caught enough Dreamroot fumes for the time it took to literally drag his son out of the airing cupboard. If he was up to snuff, he would have been a fatal exposure for the Dwarven Cleric. But for now… he was kind’a sloppy. “You don’t- you don’t- you don’t… yoooo do NOT give li’l kids drugs, Merle. ‘S a bad thing. ‘S a ver’ bad thing.”

“Even accidentally, this kind of thing looks bad,” said Kravitz. “And _how_ could you forget a _mnemonic?_ They’re designed to be remembered, Merle!”

Merle had the decency to look embarrassed. “Did a little pipeweed before Magnus came over.”

“MERLE!”

“It’s for my sciatica!”

“Oh gods,” sighed Kravitz. “How the hell am I supposed to get them sober?”

“Krav,” said Taako. “Hey, Krav…”

“They stink of Dreamroot…”

“Hey. Hey. Hey, Krav. Krav. Kravvie…”

“They’re gonna be stoned all the way home…”

“Kravitz-darling…”

Sigh. “Yes, darling?”

“Our baby smells _nice.”_

Which was the fifth time that Taako had come to this revelation. “Yes, Dove. He smells so very nice. But we have to get home and wash it off and give him some nicer smells, okay?”

“I’m stoned, aren’t I?”

“Yes, love. You’re very stoned.”

Taako looked stricken. “Are you mad at me, Bone Daddy?”

“No, I’m mad at Merle. He’s far more convenient.”

“Oooohhh… let’s be mad at Merle together,” Taako whispered.

Kravitz enlisted Barry’s help to get them both home, since he was also immune to Dreamroot fumes. Barry took Taako and Kravitz took Angus, both by way of Reaper portals to Casa de Taako. Where both Elf an half-Elf could be decontaminated in relative peace.

Taako’s final words to Merle that day were, “Hey. Fuck you! Strong letter t’ follow.”

They decided to take their _next_ honeymoon with Angus in tow. It was the least amount of trouble that way.

[1] In this AU, Angus is younger. You can safely posit that this follows from the 4YO Angus acknowledging his adoption story. Only this time, he’s half-elven. Same story, different ears, if you will.

[2] Threatened, multiple times, on pain of pain, to keep it PG.


	9. Nonny Request #7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Agatha and Angus are just too sweet! Can we see that first kiss between the two? How that played out? Or Taako discovering his baby is in love? ( "My baby is too young to have a mate!" Or maybe just that knowing smile, or Ango asking Taako when he knew he wanted to Marry Kravitz) I'm just a romantic at heart and these two are sweet and it's nice to see Ango grown up with someone too. I hope things get better, have a good day!

[AN: I’m still a highly distractible goofus. Sorry]

It wasn’t the first time they worked together. The two of them honed their teamwork on lesser, more fallible Bureau impersonators whilst they gathered data on the biggest and best network.

These people were eliminating threats to their organisation by picking off the kind of people who the Bureau would -well- head-hunt. The best, the brightest, the intelligent and the inspired. They had some way of creating bracers with the Bureau emblem on them that was nearly indistinguishable from the real deal.

Which meant, to Angus’ mind, that they had someone on the inside. Rather than start a round of Who Do You Trust within the Bureau, Angus and Agatha began a two-pronged approach to tracing the Bracers to their points of origin while Agatha, pretending to be working on a puff piece for the Midsummer Costume Rush, investigated all the people who did remarkable facsimiles of the famous Bureau Bracers.

Neither of those approaches found anything.

Agatha’s other role -as bait- was the one that paid off. The ‘nega-bureau’ sent another agent attempting to kidnap her, and she gave him another dose of her famous tea.

Zone of Truth took care of the rest. The ‘nega-bureau’ weren’t connected to the Bracers’ creation. They were connected to their investiture with the unique assortment of spells that made up their completion. Specifically,  _tracking._

Every Bureau Bracer monitored the life signs of a Bureau agent, where they were, and whether or not they sent an Orb request to the moon. When an Agent died, the spells were meant to send a signal to the moon to such an effect, and then prevent any further tracking.

These people had been obliterating the ‘further tracking’ part for  _themselves._ They them paid adventuring parties, or sent their own, to recover the bracers of the dead agents. Which they then employed for themselves through clever spellwork.

Now they had an ‘in’.

Angus, working with Taako, re-invigorated the tracking spell, and their map filled with the location tags of dead Bureau agents.

Boyland. Magic Brian. Even Johann, who had never been in the field. There were hundreds of them. Hundreds more stacked in clusters.

“That must be their warehouse,” whispered Agatha.

Killian, looking at the map, was looking greener than usual. “When I get my hands on them…” It had once been her job to hunt down–

_Former friends and family, allies and coworkers, who had gone mad with the Thrall of a Grand Relic._

She was looking at a map full of ghosts. Haunting her anew with their very presence.

“We have to keep a level head, here,” said Angus. “I know this is more than upsetting, but… we need a coherent plan.”

Which was, ultimately, the same plan as always. With the added bonus of Agatha’s Big Bangs to effectively cast Blindness over any crew in the warehouse.

The entirety of the Bureau of Benevolence, the Seven Birds, the Reaper Squad and the newly-named Team Smartypants[1] made very short work of the nega-bureau. Eliminating their field operatives with pinpoint precision before closing in on the warehouse.

Even then, it was something of a clusterfuck.

There’s a universal law that, no matter the size and collective levels of a team, they will encounter an opposing force that’s more than a little bit challenging. Even with mechanic-breakers on their side like Taako.

Angus was down to Cantrips when Agatha found her last Big Bang. “EYES!”

_Whoomph!_

After one of them, even Magic Missile could do some damage. And since he had a warning, he could pick off the nastiest of the nasties with even the lowest of low-level spells.

He even incapacitated a few of them with wedgies care of his Mage Hand. All because it made Agatha giggle. She had the most wonderful laugh. And the most devious mind he had ever encountered when it came to improvising ways to decimate the bad guys.

And the way her curls framed her face, and the depth of her eyes, and the way he felt whenever she was around and…

“You’re amazing,” he said.

And her lips were more intoxicating than any other experience in his life and she was kissing him back and he wanted to lose himself forever in the feel of her lips on his and her closeness next to him and her hands in his hair and the warmth of her in his arms and…

“GODS DAMNIT, SHE’S FRENCHING MY BABY!”

…oh fuck, Taako knew.

Then again. People could probably tell who rolled a nat one on their perception check.

“Taako, leave them alone. They’re in love. It’s special.”

Yup. Confirmed. Even  _Magnus_  could tell, and he was Mister Oblivious.

Angus stared into Agatha’s eyes, grinning like a fool in love. She had a similar expression on her lovely face.

_“I’M TOO YOUNG TO BE THE PARENT OF THE GROOM!”_

They laughed together at Taako’s histrionics.

“Guess we better help him get used to the idea,” said Agatha.

“Capital idea,” said Angus, and went in for their second kiss.

[1] Blame Magnus.


	10. Nonny Request #8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Offensensitivity warning for implied adult relations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Can I request Agatha and Angus's wedding day? With Agatha having either Kravitz or Taako walking down the isle? I just think it'd be super sweet. Or the morning after, just a sweet morning waking up to his new wife. Thanks for taking the time to read this!

[AN: Why not both?]

“I’m too young to be the father of the groom,” Taako pouted.

Angus rolled his eyes. “Sir, if we waited until  _you_  were old enough, we’d both die of old age.”

“Nope,” protested Taako. “Don’t even wanna think about that part.”

Agatha broke the deadlock with, “Will you be my Honour Guardian?”

It was an old tradition that hardly anyone did any more. To choose someone to be their Honour Guardian meant that they were a closely treasured friend who could take the place of family. Someone they could rely on -according to the tradition- to keep the prospective bride or groom’s honour and safety intact.

In the bad old days, they were there to protect the bride from over-amorous grooms... or best men.

Taako was shocked and awed. The cat he’d been petting in an impersonation of the Fantasy Godfather mewled in protest at his sudden grip on his fur. Taako quickly petted that fur smooth by way of apology. “You... I haven’t... I’ve given you nothing but shit since day one.  _Why?”_

“I know you think I’m taking your baby away from you, sir,” said Agatha. “I want it known to the Gods and everyone that I’m coming into your family, not breaking away from it.”

Taako blinked. “Well, naturally. Who  _doesn’t_  want into the Taako brand?” He was covering up. That blink said everything. That blink told Agatha that she had won a prize.

“Of course,” smiled Agatha. “I couldn’t be luckier to join your family.”

Taako entered negotiation mode. “Of course I’m catering. And co-ordinating. The two of you nerds have never touched a colour wheel in your life. You probably think red and green together are  _festive.”_

Agatha knew better than to bring up Candlenights objection. “Catering  _and_  wedding planning? Are you sure this won’t stress you out?”

Ooh. Low blow. Kravitz and Angus winced together.

“Honey,” said Taako. “I’m one of the Seven fucking Birds. I fought the literal embodiment of nihilism. A simple family wedding is going to be  _cake.”_

 _Hook, line, and sinker,_  thought Agatha. “I’ll help in any way I can,” she said.

She had never been the world’s wealthiest reporter, bearing the brunt of the lawsuits that resulted from her exposing the truth of several shady but elite characters. She had lived her life on the edges. But now... now all her snobby quote-unquote friends got to stew in their own bile.

She held her head high and shone like a diamond, blatantly ignoring all her fellow alumni from St Favisham’s School For Young Ladies as she sailed down the aisle in a  _confection_  of a dress that was still somehow simple elegance that cost far, far less than it  _looked_  like it cost.

And between her and her audience, taking the role of Honour Guardian seriously, was Taako. One hand on her elbow, and the other wrapped tight around the handle of his famous Umbrastaff. Daring any single one of them to say something vicious.

Kravitz was Angus’ Honour Guard, with his scythe in his free hand, he was definitely not a figure to contend with. Not that anyone was going to snark in  _Angus’_  direction.

When her hands met with Angus’, Taako mumbled something and her dress burst into flowers, joined with Angus’ suit in tasteful bursts of blossoms.

“Should I blame him or should I thank him?” she whispered.

“Just be smug,” he whispered back. “Today  _is_  allegedly about you.”

With this man joining with her? Hell yeah, she could be smug. Just... one little correction. “It’s about  _us,_  you silly man.”

* * *

 

Awareness crept up on him like a thief in the night. Warm. Skin against bare skin. The scent of Sweet Nectar overlaying the dizzying scent of a fellow human being. A very attractive human being.

Her soft curls tickled his face and her skin, he knew, was very pleasant to kiss and caress.

It was later than he was used to sleeping, and Angus revelled in it. Soaked in the sensations of being next to his love without any kind of obstacle because they were married.

Mr and Mrs McDonald. She hadn’t liked being a Tremaine, and much preferred to distance herself from the lingering vestiges of that family. Pirates and thieves, all of them, but the kind who did their piracy and thieving within the letter of the law.

Angus loved that she began her career by exposing her immediate family’s crimes. He loved that she was witty and intelligent and so very, very capable against the combined forces of evil.

And he loved that he could prove it in a multitude of ways. Starting by kissing her awake and watching her yawn and stretch in his arms. She soon had him grappled in a similar manner.

“Good morning, Mr Tremaine,” she joked.

“Good morning, Mrs McDonald,” he cooed. “Shall I make you some breakfast? Or would you prefer to lie in?”

She giggled. “Knowing your lot, they’re ready to throw you some kind of congratulation party, just outside the door. Better put some clothes on, hm?”

They kissed. “The party can wait half an hour.”

“My stomach can’t,” she said, and it growled like a savage beast.

His echoed hers. “Fine. Pants, then breakfast, then canoodling.”

She shuffled into a long shirt. Long enough to reach her knees. “I’ll burn the bacon, you coddle the scrambled eggs.”

He grinned. “And then Taako will scream at us and cook us a  _real_  breakfast. A perfect plan.”

There was a muffled shout from outside the door, “Except you two goofs gave it away...”

The laughter was infectious. That’s what made it the  _best_  morning.


	11. Nonny Request #9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Can I request Angus trying to persuade his tired,overly worked wife to come to bed? A little sweet, I think anyhow. Thanks for taking the time to read this!

Angus knew that look. That was the tired, cranky expression of someone who’d been working on one problem for way too long and had found way too many dead ends. He knew it well, having stayed up late through many nights, gnawing away at his own unsolvable mysteries. Taako had taught him the most valuable lesson of his life on one of those nights.

Now it was his turn to teach it to Agatha. Though he was allowed to do more groping since Agatha was his lovely wife.

His lovely, tired, cranky, irritated wife.

He leaned on her from behind, resting his chin on top of her head and draping his arms heavily over her own, thus impeding her movement.

“Babe,” she sighed, “Fuck off?”

“It’s half-past ten at night,” he said. “Sleep is more important than this, right now.”

“Fuck off, you’re heavy.”

Well. He didn’t want to hurt his beloved. Strategy B it was, then. Leaning on her wasn’t working. Angus fucked off, but only temporarily.

He prepared some nibbles. Taako’s patented stun-’em-at-forty-yards, better-than-a-sleep-spell hot chocolate, and those apple pancakes that were guaranteed to make anyone who could resist the hot chocolate very blinky indeed. He plated the pancakes up with clotted cream and some of her favourite compote.

Angus smiled as he waved the prepared tray under her nose. “Some refreshments, my love?”

Glare. She had bags under those beautiful dark eyes. “I know what you’re trying to do. No.”

He employed the Puppy Eyes. “Not even a liddle taste?”

The barest ghost of a smile crept through her overall grumpiness. “You’re trying to feed me Faerun’s next best thing to a plus ten sleep potion. No. You go eat it.”

Curses. Foiled again. He popped it up on a convenient shelf and plonked a preservation cover over it. “Fine. Seduction it is.”

_“Angus...”_  she protested. Agatha wasn’t very enthusiastic about fending him off. She giggled as he kissed his way up her arm to nuzzle and nip at her neck. “Stop it...”

He stopped. “Come to bed? This will be better solved with rested eyes.”

“But I need to get this  _done...”_

“By tomorrow?”

She bit her lip. “No. The story deadline’s next week, but...” she gestured at the evidentiary documents strewn over her thinking place. “This is clearly not enough to nail that slippery bastard to the wall.”

He slid his fingertips up through her hairline and began a slow massage. “We’ll work on this together, tomorrow. Don’t tax your reserves here and now, okay?”

Agatha murmured a note of pleasure and leaned back in her chair. “Mmmmmmhhmmmmmm... fine. I’ll eat your damn sleep potion pancakes and get some Z’s...”

He escorted her away from her work and made sure she did that. Chatted about silly nonsense until she was almost done and almost asleep on her butt. After that, it was a simple trip to their shared bed and into their nightclothes to hold her down until her brain finally caught up with the idea that sleep was the good thing, now.

Not that she protested that part. She’d done her fair share of holding him down until his brain finally engaged sleep mode. Fair was, after all, fair.

He woke to her jolting upright and yelling, “TAXES!” in the dawn’s early light.

Angus knew better than to get in her way as Agatha charged downstairs, shuffled through her papers, and then charged off to the privy because it  _was_  the early morning and certain things were necessary. He just prepared coffee and her best brain-food breakfast.

She took her bacon crunchy and dipped it into her coddled eggs as she worked on finding and collating all the tax information with her other hand. Things were going well, judging by the way she was saying, “Yes,” at ever-increasing enthusiasm and volume.

Agatha kissed him enthusiastically when she was halfway through her coffee. “We. Are. Geniuses. I love you.”

He just chuckled and said, “Love you too, babe.”


	12. Nonny Request #10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> May I request Taako and Kravitz babysitting little Agnes, and they are the ones hearing her first words. It's a big moment and i thought it'd be sweet. I'll leave that first word to be whatever you decide. Bonus points if it's Lup's influence. Thank you for reading this!

Everyone agreed that Agnes had to be the smartest baby in the world. She wasn’t even crawling when she made the connection between sounds and meaning. What she was currently having difficulty with was saying words that other people used. She stubbornly refused to speak anything but her own, personal language, and kept changing her mind about the grammar and lexicon.

Taako, babysitting because both her parents were off on one of their adventures, took her gibberish seriously. Carrying on a conversation using the tone of Agnes’ voice as a guide. He was also gently attempting to get her to say a real word or two.

“Aba ja wawi neh ninananana,” said Agnes. Complaining because she couldn’t climb the couch. 

One of the cats was glaring at her, calculating when would be the best time to saunter away from her statistically sticky grasp.

“That  _is_  a steep couch,” Taako agreed, “and a very fluffy kitty. You and I both know that kitties don’t like it when you’ve been sucking on your fingers.” He added the suggestion, “You could climb on Uncle Kravitz,” who had, incidentally, read her  _Goodnight Moons_  so many times that  _he_  fell asleep.

“Eeeehhhhh...” Agnes whined.

“Yeah, that kitty’s gonna walk away from you and we know it, Aglet.”

The air tore, and Lup re-entered the mortal plane, swearing in Elvish. Her Reaper robes evaporated, and so did the red robes stuck to her lichy form, which she used to terrify the marks.  _“CUNTS,”_  was her final epithet before she dove into the pantry and the fantasy refrigerator for ingredients.

She started slamming things around and using all the possible Elven curses and repeating more than a few as she vented.

“Bad day at the office?” Taako asked. “And remember there are children present.”

Lup stopped throwing things around for a minute so she could peek over the back of the couch at Agnes and coo. “Heya pun’kin? How’s my favourite grand-niece? Is you bein’ a good humanman?”

Agnes giggled and jiggled and managed a two millimetre jump that caused the cat to decide that it was too close to Agnes. The cat yawned, stretched, and sauntered up to a higher position on the couch.

“Yeah, you’re havin’ fun now that Aunty Lup’s around.” She switched to Elvish.  _“These fucking cunts, Koko. The entire job was a moist, dark hole and loaded with syphilis. Absolute cunts. Diseased, stupid, spavined cunts. And they were the fucking worst to take down. Cunts!”_

And that was the moment that Agnes decided to echo the most frequent word. “Ekee.”

There was a moment of tense silence.

Agnes jiggled and giggled. “Ekee! Ekee, ekee, ekee, ekee!”

“Great,” Taako singsonged. “The first word that actually sticks is a curse.”

“EKEE!”

“Agnes’ fault for leaving her with us two potty-mouthed nerds.”

“Ekee, ekee... ekee, ekee, ekee...”

“He’s still gonna blame us.”

“What do we do, bro?”

“Conk her out, lie like a rug, and pretend we had nothing to do with this?”

Lup leveled a glare at him. “You  _are_  talking about attempting to lie to the world’s greatest detective  _and_  the world’s best investigative reporter.”

“I get it. Dumb idea.”

“There’s still the hope that she’ll get bored and pick a new word.”

Lup brightened. “We... could... try to train her?”

Taako also brightened. “Let’s whip up a bunch of Aglet treats and give it a whirl.”

When Angus and Agatha returned to Casa de Taako, they found an interesting scene. One sticky daughter, jam and honey on her face, bracketed by the twins of song and story, each with a basket of gooey treats.

“Ma. Ma,” cooed Taako. “You say ‘ma-ma’.”

“Da da da da da da,” Lup enthused. “Da da da da.”

Angus looked to his wife, who looked back in a way that said,  _We both know something is up, and that something stinks._  Aloud, he said, “Who did what, sir?”

Agnes let the cat out of the bag by saying her first word. “Ekee!’

The twins stood ramrod straight in instants and both pointed the finger of blame at each other.

“This really was inevitable, wasn’t it?” sighed Agatha.

[AN: thanks to this handy link: <https://sa.obsidianportal.com/adventure-log/elven-curse-words> for the lexicon]


	13. 'Cause I Want to See it Happen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Baby's first Amnesty Fic that's not a Balance Arc Stolen Century crossover! Wheee!
> 
> If you want to catch this stuff before it goes out on AO3, try following my tumblr @internutter :D You also get links to one free story per diem, so what's not to love?

It had been a long, exhausting, and stressful day already, and now she was late. She was late for her meeting with a person who had so little time and now she was wasting those precious seconds by being late and she couldn’t run anymore because she’d spent pretty much most of the day desperately running and now her legs just wouldn’t carry her anywhere fast any more and she swore her lungs were on fire and she was late and everyone who knew about her presence in Sylvain knew it.

They did not hesitate to tell her about it either. She didn’t even have the time to tell them she knew.

Aubrey entered Janelle’s office, out of breath. Trembling. Spots dancing in her vision.

“You are late.”

“I… know…” she panted. Sweat was pouring off her. “Y’re time’s precious…” gasp, gulp, move shakily towards the mandatory rug. “Tried t’ get…” gasp, wobble, “…here sooner…”

“I’ve already started on another book,” said Janelle. “You may sit on your spot and catch your breath.”

“‘Kay.” Aubrey almost collapsed onto the rug. “…thanks.” It took her five breaths before the ghost of a sob joined her ragged breaths. Everything that could have gone wrong had gone wrong and it felt like it was all her fault and she’d hurt people again and she just felt so full of guilt that she wanted to burst.

_Focus on now,_  she told herself.  _Focus on now. Now is lesson time. Now is calm time. Now is pretending that my life is not a disaster time. Now is focus time._

Aubrey forced herself up into a proper meditative position and really worked on focussing her breathing and achieving calm. A task that was always helped by the fidget ring on her left index finger. It sated her need to twiddle and pick and the subtle clicking of its tiny gears was always a soothing white noise. She could work it with her thumbnail while the rest of her body was still and her mind could begin to calm.

It was starting to work. She could feel it.

“Oh,” said the Interpreter. “I was unaware you were–”  _FANTASTIC. IT’S BACK. I HAD HOPED IT HAD DIED, BUT IT’S STILL HERE. THOUGHTLESSLY TAKING. IS IT_ PLAYING _WITH SOMETHING WHEN IT SHOULD BE FOCUSSING?_

Aubrey couldn’t keep the grimace off her face.  _I am a calm river and my troubles float away with the flow…_

“My student needs some time to center herself. Is there something you need?”

“Yes, I was wondering if you had the latest perimeter report after–”  _LOOK AT IT, SWEATING LIKE A HOG AND COVERED IN FILTH. IT CAN’T EVEN PRESENT ITSELF PROPERLY. I DOUBT IT RESPECTS A SINGLE THING WE’RE DOING FOR IT._

Aubrey’s breath shook.  _I am a calm river. I am a calm river. My troubles are leaves on the surface. I am a calm river…_

“One moment, Interpreter. I think I recall where I left it,” Janelle shuffled through the piles of books and paperwork in her office space.

_I am a calm river… All my troubles float away like– DOESN’T KNOW HOW TO BEHAVE EVEN NOW. I’D HAVE THOUGHT IT WOULD HAVE LEARNED SOMETHING USEFUL BY NOW SO IT CAN BE GONE AT LAST._

Tears came, and Aubrey’s inner dam broke. “I’m trying my best, okay? I only  _just_  got here from like the second-worst night of my life and I know better than to waste Janelle’s time, but I just couldn’t run anymore and I can’t make it go away and I gotta learn how to control it and I don’t even know where to start and I nearly killed Mama and I nearly killed Ned and I nearly killed Jake and I never wanted to and I missed the bom-bom at the worst moment and if I didn’t have A-D-H-D I’d probably be better at all of this and I wouldn’t be wasting anyone’s time and I wanna make it go away but I can’t make it go away and I don’t wanna screw up anymore….” she was sobbing in earnest now. Her world was a blur from all the tears, and her hands bunched up in her hair and she had to force herself not to pull at it. “I’m sorry for everything. I’m sorry my stupid ancestors stole from your world, I’m sorry I can’t hear your mouth words over your other voice, I’m sorry I don’t know which one of you is royalty and I’m sorry I don’t know how I should be behaving, I’m sorry I touched your crystal, I’m sorry I hurt people, I’m sorry I can’t control anything, I’m sorry I’m so stupid and I’d give literally anything…  _anything…_  to make it  _better!”_  At the last word, she let go of her hair and slammed her hands onto the floor.

It felt worse than when she’d touched the crystal.

It felt like everything she had was pouring out of her in one big flood. Blood. Sweat. Tears. Soul. All of it.

Something struck her in the chest and she was cut off from whatever had split her open like that and she was falling.

The light was fading and she was falling.

Someone was calling her name and she was falling.

Drifting.

Settling like a down feather into the soft, warm enclosure of a bed. Feeling the blankets fall gently on top of her like a drifting snowflake. Becoming aware of a warm hand on her brow.

“She’s coming back up.”

_CAN YOU HEAR THIS?_

Aubrey mumbled, “Yeah, there’s no need t’ shout. I c’n hear you.”

_I AM NOT SPEAKING WITH MY ‘MOUTH WORDS’, AUBREY LITTLE._

Aubrey cracked open an eye. She felt worse than dog shit. Drained and tired and bone-weary and more than a little sick and definitely wrung out. “What?”

The Interpreter was sitting in her field of view. Mouth definitely closed.  _YOU TOUCHED THE CRYSTAL, BUT YOU DID NOT TAKE FROM IT. YOU GAVE IT SOME OF YOUR LIFE FORCE, AND IN RETURN, IT HAS MARKED YOU._

Aubrey reached up. Her sunglasses were no longer on her face.  _Oh shit…_  “…’m sorry. I know I’m not allowed…”

_TODAY, YOU GAVE SOME OF YOUR LIFE FORCE TO SYLVAIN. TREES LONG THOUGHT DEAD HAVE RETURNED TO LIFE. FLOWERS BLOOM WHERE ONCE THE SOIL WAS BARREN. OUR BORDERS HAVE EXPANDED. YOU, AUBREY LITTLE, HAVE PUSHED BACK THE DARKNESS._

She could not, currently, fit herself and the concept of helping do good for someone into the same conceptual space. “You mean… I  _didn’t_  screw up?”

The Interpreter said with her mouth words, “You’ve made this entire situation  _far_ more interesting.”

[AN: I honestly have no clue where this could go or whatever, so… free fragment?]


	14. Nonny Request #11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked:
> 
> After reading the wedding between Angus and Agatha, how she wasn't particularly liked by her family and vice versa, I wanted to request maybe some Ango and Agatha, or Taako and Kravitz with Agatha. She has nightmares of, her family taking revenge on her, her new family, threats. Sometimes some comfort from a parent would be nice? I just love to see them all bond. Thank you so much!

“Listen,” Taako had explained. “It’s the last place they’d look because it’s the first place  _anyone_  would look. I got my wards refreshed and nobody is entering the grounds without prior permission. Hell, even the delivery guy knows to use the mailbox of translocation.”

It was with that moment that Agatha knew that all her other objections would be trampled over in the same rough-shod manner. The Treehouse, as the extended family called it, was Taako’s country retreat. He paid some locals to look after the place when he was off doing other things and, as near as Agatha could tell, it was still a fixer-upper.

Lightning had hit the upper branches at some point and shapers were still coming by to train the wild limbs into something like the tree’s original state. Just as others were re-training the wilderness of the estate grounds into the farm it used to be. All things considered, re-taming the riding deer was easy-going.

So far, only the three lowest levels had been modernised. The whole place was a work in progress. Labyrinthine, too, with hundreds of ways to escape and confusing passageways that took years to memorise. In other words, typical Elven architecture when the entire species was used to Elfism cropping up every three hundred years or so.

Taako’s cats took to it like ducklings to water, vanishing into the Elven Air Vents and hunting down vermin like they’d been born there. Agatha, on the other hand, had her doubts. Especially now that Taako was threading a grass bracelet with a wooden bead onto her wrist. The bead was Hazelwood, a common arcane channeling material, and a sigil had been inscribed onto the plain tan bead.

“What the fuck is this?”

“This is sort of adopting you into the family,” said Taako. “New children to the house get these. The wards won’t attack you, and if you’re scared, the willow lights will lead you to a place of comfort and security.”

“Willow. Lights.” Agatha repeated. “I’m sorry, Taako, but I’ve never heard of willow lights.”

“Think of your Uncle Fuckup for five seconds.”

His actual name was Phandro, and he was a powerful enough crime lord to strike at Agatha from within prison. Which was why she was in hiding in the first place. As her heart rate accelerated, a small, friendly-shaped form faded into existence. Beckoning her towards one of the many nooks in this house.

“How do you think the legends of will o’ the wisps got started? You better follow it before it sounds an alarm to your in loco parental.”

Agatha followed it to a comfy nook that lit up as she entered. Cosy pillows and comfort food and a little commode space and, once Taako showed her, the knowledge that there was a secret way out. She relaxed and the willow light winked out.

Taako was grinning. “We’re still restoring most of the old place, so the higher you go, the more likely it is you’ll find guarderobes and cobwebs and expired runes.”

“Why are they called ‘willow lights’?” Agatha asked, grasping for the straws of distraction. “This tree’s a Mountain Ygdrasi.”

“You already know the answer, you just want a conversation to keep your mind off things,” said Taako, seeing right through her. “Don’t worry about it. Our husbands are on the case and half the family is backup. We won’t even have to worry about where you can squeeze through.”

Because she was also five months pregnant with her first kid. Taako kept insisting it was twins despite ample evidence to the contrary. A family goof. “Yeah. A long, boring conversation about Elven history is just what I need to go to sleep right now.”

Taako summoned an Invisible Servant to bring a proper meal for her (all the healthy things, of course) and started regaling her about the long, proud history of Elven kind. Starting with how the first tribe-houses were willows, owing to their proximity to clean water.

Agatha was out like a light before she was quite done with dessert.

A sudden siren woke her. It was dark and the only light  came from the runes. Mismatched eyes glowing in the gloom were open in panic. “Down the hatch, Aggie. They’re here.”

Agatha didn’t waste time arguing. She pressed the little hidden trigger that opened the hidden hatch. This particular passage was made for elderly Elves and thus made to accomodate a lowered dexterity score. She was grateful for that, and the beckoning figure that lead her through twisting passages.

She could hear random sounds. Voices of her family. Spells firing off. Agatha crawled faster through the twisting tunnels. Finally emerging in a cobweb-ridden cavern that had its own ululating howl. The only light was from the willow light and her bracelet. Carved figures in the walls scowled at her and unseen beasts skittered in the darkness.

“Intruder!” A ghostly Elf manifested out of a statue. “Intruder!”

Behind them was Uncle Phandro. He had a crossbow. Agatha tensed…

A loud rumble shook the entire place. An impossible rumble, because it was Taako purring and gently shaking her. “Hey. Hey, Aggie. Hey. Hey. You’re okay. It’s okay. It’s just a dream. Come on back.”

There was a willow light jiggling up and down above her. Saying something in Elven that could have parsed for ‘intruder’ in Common. It faded out as she came back to reality. The runes glowed around her, and Taako turned up the fairy lights that gave the midnight darkness more shape.

“You with me now, Aggie? Know where you are?”

“I’m in the safe cote. I’m safe with you. That… that was a nightmare.” She couldn’t let go of Taako, just yet. Her fingers dug into his hair and clothing and flesh alike. She couldn’t stop shaking. She couldn’t stop crying.

Taako rubbed her back as he purred. “It’s okay,” he soothed. “It’s just a dream. You’re safe. Krav and Agnes are safe. Maggie and Merlot and Lup and Barold are out hunting them all down. It’s good. It’s good.” He disengaged one of her hands and guided it to a soft shape in the darkness. Neopolitan, the cuddle slut cat. She, too, started purring up a storm as Agatha flexed her fingers in the cat’s fur.

Neapolitan started kneading Agatha’s thigh, and little is realer than a cat making biscuits in squishy portions of one’s anatomy.

Taako held her long past the point where she stopped shaking, stopped crying, and stopped breathing so raggedly.

“I think I’m awake for a few more hours, yet,” she sighed. Think you’ll let me in your kitchen for eggs the safe way and some steak?”

“And some non-caffeinated tea,” added Taako. “Hot tea always helps you chill.”

The lights came up to pre-dawn levels of imitation twilight. It was fuck-off in the morning and the cats had the run of the house. The hearth made for cauldrons had been replaced with a Fantasy [Aga](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fen.wikipedia.org%2Fwiki%2FAGA_cooker&t=NWUyN2I2NzJjNWFjY2ZhZjNmNTkxOGZmNzY0ZWJlYjM5YzVhMTFlYSxNZ2xtQk5CbQ%3D%3D&b=t%3ATgFobn6zg5SomzVkFhVbfw&p=http%3A%2F%2Finternutter.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F179032425954%2Fafter-reading-the-wedding-between-angus-and&m=0) that ran off the methane from the root system septic tank that also fed the tree. Nothing was wasted.

A cat or two had to be ousted so Taako could begin putting on the kettle and heating up a frypan. The warmth, the cats, and the gentle sounds of another being helped ground her. That, and the sensations of a McDonald-to-be kicking the living spit out of her liver.

Taako lit a few more lamps and warm light began to colour in an ancient kitchen. Generations of Elves had once cooked here. There was even a nook by the chimney for babies and sickly children to be near their parentals as they busied themselves with food. One of the near-feral cats had taken it over for her kittens.

Taako pressed a warm muffin into her hands while he prepared everything else. This was his way of showing love. Food, nicknames, and physical closeness. Agatha soaked them all up and returned his casual caresses with some of her own.

Just like the feral cats that lived here before Taako moved in, she too was being tamed. She, too, was getting used to a parental figure who was gentle and caring and, though a little broken in his own way, actively  _trying_  to be better every day.

“I’ve decided,” she said as Taako clattered about with eggs and kettles and frypans and teapots. “I’m going to try and be like you and Kravitz. You guys are way better parents than mine ever were.”

Taako “got something in his eye” for twenty whole minutes after that announcement. “Silly  _meldanel_ ,” he said. “Makin’ me get stuff in my eye.”

Agatha decided not to tell him that she knew what that meant. He wasn’t ready, yet. All the same, it felt nice to be part of a better family.

[AN: Meldanel - “beloved daughter”, thanks to elfdict.com]


	15. Nonny Request #12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked:
> 
> on the same vein as half elf Angus, being adopted by Kravitz and Taako, may I request Ango going through his first ( or second) Luume? ( whether or not he's with Agatha, or even around that age is up to you) Thank you for taking the time to read this!
> 
> [AN: I technically got this prompt twice, so I'll be documenting the Second Luume in a few]

[AN: Found it! Things be FUBAR’ed so this is the real one. I need to think about this one because I promised my  _Tumbl into TAZ_  readers that nothing would be NSFW]

“Sir? I don’t feel so good...”

It was a definite bad sign when Angus referred to Taako as ‘sir’. He hadn’t done that for half a century or more. Definitely when he was mostly-grown and it finally sunk in that he had a place to belong. Taako put down his cooking and washed and dried his hands.

Angus was-- what? Seventy? Eighty? He knew being half-elven screwed things up, sometimes. The human side demanded things go quickly, whilst the Elven side wanted to chill.

“Awright, kiddo. Gimmie the symptoms list,” Taako felt his brow. Warm to the point of hot. He was feverish. Flushed cheeks. Dilated pupils... Uh oh.

“I feel real restless,” said Angus. “Like I want something, but it’s not here. Everything is wrong.”

Taako took a deep inhale of Angus’ scent. It had changed up to be abnormally appealing. It triggered Taako’s more intensive needs to care for this child of his. Fortunately, he made the will save to resist his stronger instincts. “Hungry?” Taako guessed.

“Starving.” Angus looked pained and he looked around the kitchen for the undefinable. “I know I just had breakfast, but I want... I want more...”

“Luume,” said Taako. “We knew it was coming.”

“I’m only seventy-five...”

Good thing  _one_  of them was keeping track of this business. “Yeah, and it could have come on at fifty, when you were still on the weedy side.” Taako slid across something high-calorie and easy to consume, which Angus fell on. “It’s okay. Papa’s got’cha.”

As Angus wolfed down his second breakfast, Taako found the spots behind his ears, where a particular nerve cluster could be stimulated to tell Angus’ raging instincts,  _Not Yet._

Angus relaxed so much he could have melted if he didn’t have bones. He leaned against his adopted Papa and began to purr.

Taako purred in response, sending a Fantasy Text to all the people who were expecting him to do shit today.  _Family emergency. Everything’s cancelled._

After that was done, his son had Taako’s undivided attention.

* * *

 

Angus woke in the cuddle cote. Warm, comfortable, and oddly exhausted. Papa was nearby and Angus wasn’t exactly inclined to let him go, just yet.

“Well done,” said Papa. “That’s a twenty-four hour pain in the ass over and done with for probably a decade. Good to know the humanman side of things eased it up for ya.”

Papa had forty-eight hours of instinctual overdrive followed by lazy lull. Angus had heard of Elves who suffered, and made the world around them suffer, for a full three days. Papa had the extra un-bonus of an unpredictable, erratic cycle that hit like a truck.

Angus tried to remember what he’d done. He rolled a one. “What’d I do?”

“Oh, you had an easy time, baby. It’s cool. I got to your ‘off switch’ so you slept through most of it. You had some good food, I watched a lot of Fantasy Netflix. What’s not to love?”

“Mmmh,” Angus wasn’t inclined to move. “Feel like I’ve been running a marathon.”

“Yeah, that’s what it does.” Taako offered him a straw attached to an enormous bottle of gator-aid. “Drink this shit. It really helps.”

It did. Angus could feel his brain revving back up to its full potential once more. “I have a whole decade before I go through this again, right? It’d be legal for me to... youknow... with someone.”

“Anywhere between five and ten years. The human side fucks a lot of shit up with your genes, baby boy.” Taako ruffled his hair. “And if you can’t say it, you definitely ain’t ready.”

A different kind of flush invaded Angus’ face. “...probably,” he allowed. “Did I go all... Cave-Elf? Like you do?”

“You had more vocab than me f'r sure. I had Lup cook up a bunch of those condition-adding muffins I used to feed you when you were tiny. You want?”

He was suddenly craving them, now. “That’d be lovely. Warm and with butter and cream?”

“And a steak for after.” Taako wriggled free. “You stay down. Your family’s got’cher back.”

“Good...” Angus yawned. It felt like a good nights’ sleep and some fortified meals were the best thing for him. “Good Papa...”


	16. Nonny Request #13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> may I request our half elf Ango going through his first, or second Luumee? ( whether or not he's with Agatha, or what age he is, is up to you. it just thought it'd be interesting seeing our Ango go into full Nurture mode, or what have you.)thanks so much for reading this!
> 
> [AN: In Continuity with the Young Angus ‘verse, and a direct sequel to the previous request. AU adjustment, Agatha is now also a half-elf]

Agatha had grown to like making Professor Angus McDonald, world’s greatest detective, blush and stammer. Some days, she could do it just by smiling a certain way. Today, though, she wasn’t even trying. Yet there he was, in her company, face growing ruddier by the second.

He was also sniffing a lot and using simpler language choices. It was when he started to perspire that she suspected something was up. Especially when, upon sneaking up on the latest crime family plot, that he wound up right next to her, taking a deep inhale, and spontaneously purring.

In elven parlance, he had a pretty loud engine when he set up a purr. Even his distress purrs were audible across a room.

“Still it,” she whispered. “You’re gonna fuck our stealth check.”

“Smells nice,” said Professor McDonald. Something on his wrist began a tinny little chime. It chimed  _Love Is In the Air._

“What the shit?” Agness whispered. She grabbed his arm and pulled up his sleeve and saw a little alert.  _Luume’irma. Batten down the hatches._  Oh no. Oh  _no._  “You’re going through Luume?  _Now?”_

Angus, a little behind on things for a change read the display, felt his own cheeks, and said, “Oh fuck, not this again...”

Timing is everything. Just as Agatha was reaching for his ‘off switch’, one of the obligatory stupid guards was bringing a young, teenage prisoner in for a dark ritual that almost certainly included a blood sacrifice.

“Baby,” cooed Angus.

“Oh fuck,” said three people at once, including the potential ‘child’ sacrifice.

Angus saw the chains, the ritual knife and, having also seen the altar, was able to put two and two together and come out with murder as both the problem and the solution. With Luume in the equation, it meant that most of the cultists and all of the crime family were stopped with extreme prejudice. Agatha helped, only to make certain that a few were left alive to testify to the authorities.

Angus, bloodstained and victorious, gathered both Agatha and the half-orc kid who had been saved into his arms and carried them to safety. Which happened to be a residence overflowing with evidence because one of the bosses lived in it. Used to live in it. There, Angus groomed and fed both the kid and Agatha, though his attentions towards Agatha made  _her_  blush and stammer.

He was caught between nurturing his found child and smudging up to someone he saw as a mate. Once that information filtered through her head, Agatha decided not to tease him so much about his affections any more.

“What’s your name, kid?” she asked the teen half-orc.

“Uh... Neosemo?” He wasn’t used to a tender touch, judging by the way he flinched every time Angus delicately untangled a knot in his hair. “Is he... okay?”

“It’s Luume. You’ve just been adopted.” Agatha thought about this. “It’s a lifelong bond and Professor McDonald is gonna be compelled to look after you. The rest of the family is just going to adopt you automatically...” Agatha temporarily lost the power of speech as Angus nuzzled affectionately into her neck and kissed her tenderly. “The good news is you got the best new leaf you could possibly have.”

“The bad news?” said Neosemo as Angus tried to feed him a fragment of lembas.

“There is no possible way to rebel because your family now includes the Seven Birds.”

Neosemo looked into the middle distance like he was seeing his first rainbow. “...holy shit..” he mumbled.

* * *

 

Angus woke himself up with his own purring. Someone very, very kind was waving scrambled eggs, waffles, and hot chocolate under his nose. Food. Yes. Good food. Even better.

He was halfway through it all when he registered that someone was talking to him. “Mrf?”

“I said, are you feeling better, now?” said Agatha.

Chew, chew, chew, gulp. “Much. Thanks for the food. Man, I feel so wiped out... Um. Was there... a kid?”

“His name is Neosemo and he’s talking with the city guard. A cleric will be by shortly to be certain you don’t have any issues. Is this your second Luume or...?”

“Yeah, it was my second. Ten years apart. I think I lucked out...” He tried not to inhale the hot chocolate. “You made all this? For me?”

“Yup. Sorry I couldn’t find any bacon for you.”

Now that he thought about it, bacon would be  _wonderful._  Bacon or mutton and clootie dumplings and -damn- when Papa said the demands on an Elf’s body were high, he wasn’t fucking around. “We’ll find some. Pretty sure one of Papa’s restaurants is around here, somewhere...” Agatha refilled his borrowed mug with more of the hot chocolate, which was delicious. “Marry me?” he said.

“Wait until you’re no longer high on hormones before you ask that again,” she joked.

“Okay,” he agreed, then his heart swelled three sizes when his new kid entered the room. “There’s my boy,” he cooed. “There’s my beautiful boy...”

The interesting times were only beginning.


	17. Nonny Request #14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> I am convinced that sometimes Kravitz wakes up and just has Taako clinging to him all day. Work gets awkward when the worlds most beautiful elf refuses to not hug you and you have work.

There are few things in life better than a lazy Saturday morning in bed. Kravitz was comfortably warm and in physical content with the best amount of Taako, which was as much skin-to-skin contact as they could both get. The cats were scattered about above them on the covers, one nestled by Kravitz’s head, and purring was the only scheduled activity this morning.

Kravitz turned his head just enough to kiss Taako’s forehead and felt a tickle on his cheek that wasn’t any of the cats’ tails or whiskers. He freed an arm to pluck it off his face.

A raven’s feather. He was being summoned.

“Dove,” he cooed. “Love. Darling. I gotta go to work, sweetie.”

Taako’s grip only tightened. He moaned a rising whine of complaint. “Nooo... stay with me...”

“I can’t, Dove. My Queen needs me.”

“Y’r husband needs you,” Taako mumbled, refusing to let go.

“I know. I know, Dove. I’m sorry. I really have to go.” It was harder than it had to  be, escaping Taako’s grip. Especially since the wonderful wizard, chef, and all-around gorgeous Elf kept re-adjusting his grip. “Let go, love.”

“No-o-o-o...” Taako whined. “Don’ wanna...”

* * *

 

“My apologies for the delay, my Queen,” said Kravitz, one of the best Reapers in the Raven Queen’s employ.

“Nice backpack,” said Barry as he cleaned his glasses with the edge of his Reaper robe. “It almost looks like--” he put his glasses back on. “Taako?”

“...come back to bed...” Taako grizzled.

Lup, meanwhile, was almost bursting her innards trying not to laugh.


	18. Reader Request #1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> StormyBerryMC asked:
> 
> Can I request a Taako & Angus story? One where Taako is realizing that Angus is a bit too skinny for a ten year old, figures out that it’s because he didn’t usually have enough to eat back home, and makes it his mission to fix this situation.
> 
> [AN: Woohoo! This is my first live fanficcing! Wish me luck]

"Good morning, sir."

Taako, still only halfway through his preferred kind of coffee[1], mumbled through most of, "That remains to be determined."

"Not a morning person, huh?"

Taako took a breath to cuss this bright, annoying, louder than they should be morning person, but some fraction of cognition sparked into life to make him recognise that he was talking to Angus McDonald, world's greatest detective and literal baby. "Nope," he said in a please-stop-talking voice. He decided to reserve his ire for the sadistic asshole who decided to schedule a staff meeting at fucking eight AM. Eight AM needed to be outlawed. He finished his coffee off, crunching on the sugar sludge and attempting to achieve cogniscence the morning after the evening's revelry before.

"You're not well, are you, sir?"

Taako mumbled, "Self inflicted injury, li'l man," and palmed a mint into his mouth. It didn't do much for his awareness, but it should cover the remaining stink of all the booze he'd imbibed the night before. He didn't give a rats' ass who saw him rub the sleep gunk out of his eyes, nor a single fuck for anyone who called him out for turning up in his pyjamas. Frankly, they were all lucky he was upright.

Angus had his hand on Taako's elbow. "I could make you something to help with the pain, sir. If that's okay..."

Part of him wanted to tell this kid to fuck off. Part of him was still guilty about throwing the kid off the train. Then he saw Angus' wrist.

The fancy lad shirt he wore was just a little too short in the sleeve, letting Taako -even in his hungover state- to spy how thin it was. How the bones stuck out from a stick-thin arm. How the flesh of his hands was just a tad too taut and too close to the skeleton underneath.

The instant Angus saw that Taako saw that, he pulled his arm away and covered up. It was already too late.

Taako was no longer paying attention to the meeting. Not that he planned to pay attention in the first place. He had initially planned to zone out whilst pretending to pay attention and see if he could drift back into dreamland without anyone noticing. Maggie, already on the other side of him, made an excellent pillow, and would never rat Taako out to whomever had the podium.  _Now,_ though, he had something different to occupy his dome piece.

How to properly feed the baby.

Especially - how to do so without ruining his brand. He hadn't needed anyone or anything since he was twelve.  _This kid is ten or less..._ He had to tough things out and cope for himself.  _This kid had nobody, just like he had..._ That brat was lucky to have employment  _in a super-secret, dangerous organisation that would forget him if he died..._ Taako growled to himself and started subtle. "Hey," he whispered to the kid. "You know the base cafeteria is all you can eat, right?"

Angus didn't say anything.

Taako waited until a more decent hour - three PM - before he tried again. He found the kid in the Bureau library and slid a muffin under his nose. "You _can_ feed yourself, right?"

Angus looked at the muffin as if he expected it to explode, eyeing Taako like he expected it to be some kind of cruel goof.  _Like so many other cruel goofs he had already pulled on this relatively defenceless child..._

"It's cool, I swiped it from the cafeteria. Where they said you  _weren't_ visiting. Y'know... for regular meals."

Angus pushed the muffin away. "You're not visiting there that often either, sir."

"Yeah, the difference between you and me is I'm  _already_ a train wreck. You still have a chance to come out passing pretty close to normal. Ain't gonna happen if you don't get your eats on time."

Angus said, "Sir, I'm doing important work here, and you're not the type to physically force me to do anything."

How did he--? Oh yeah. World's greatest detective. Fortunately for him, Taako was the world's best con man. He sighed, affecting defeat. "You're right. I'm not." He let Angus have a second or three's worth of victory. "Magnus, on the other hand..."

Fear. "You wouldn't."

Taako blew one of those whistles that could spontaneously clear out ear wax from every living creature in a twenty-foot radius. The water in Angus' bottle reacted to a tremor in the ground. A regular tremor, like the unmuffled footfalls of an incoming ruff boi.

Thundering across the otherwise silent linoleum of the library floor, Magnus Burnsides rushed in.

His war-cry? "You haven't had your breakfast!"

Taako sauntered behind the huge lug, his elegantly pointed ears deaf to Angus' protests.

"Madam Director! Help! Do something! Make 'em stop!" Angus squealed on his way past the lady in charge of it all.

Tres Horny Boys came to a nervous halt, Angus still over Magnus' shoulder and Merle attempting to pretend invisibility.

She regarded him with her usual distant aplomb. "I warned you that there would be consequences to bad habits Mr McDonald," she said. "If it wasn't my reclaimers, I'd send Team Sweet Flips in by tomorrow." She nodded regally. "Carry on, gentlemen."

Magnus grinned. "If we hurry, we can still get some of the  _crunchy_ bacon."

"Eugh," muttered Merle, waddling in the rear. "I'm just in it for the coffee at this point. At my age, it's oatmeal all the way or ya spend twenty move points on bathroom breaks. Enjoy eating what you want when you want it while you still can, kid. It goes away fast. Sooner or later, you'll only be able to eat what you  _have_ to."

Angus had given up kicking and struggling. "Looks pretty much like I'm eating what I have to anyway, sir," he sighed.

"Nonsense," said Taako. "There's oodles of choice. Heck, some members of the Bureau operate in completely different time zones, so you can get dinner for breakfast if ya wanna."

"Or bacon all day long," said Magnus, number one bacon fan in all of Faerun. He deposited Angus in front of the buffet and placed a tray in his hands.

"Pick whatever you're hungry for, little man," said Taako. "The only rule is, you eat until you're full. Capische?"

Angus still felt compelled to object, though it was growing clear that he had little idea why he was objecting. "My parents said..."

Taako nailed him in place with just his gaze. "Yeah?"

Angus blushed. "They said I shouldn't over-eat. Or I'll get fat."

"Horseshit."

Angus looked up in shock. "Sir?"

"Eat when you're hungry. Your bod knows what it needs. Hell, I never over-ate for like a hundred years and look at me," he patted his hip. A lifetime of frequent starvation had left him with adipose that was difficult to shift. Dieting later on in his career had just made everything worse. For limited definitions of worse. In Taako's not-so-humble opinion, he carried the extra weight well. Other people seemed to think so, too. "You get things balanced, you only eat when you're hungry, you will be fine."

"Also knowing what's healthy," added Merle.

"Pfft. They change their minds about that shit annually."

"Any diet without bacon in it can die," said Magnus.

Angus let the trio argue as he really thought about what he wanted. His parents had opinions about what was healthy and what wasn't. The only unanimous decision they had had was that Angus should eat less. They didn't want a fat child, or anyone close to a fat child. So when they loaded his plate, it was never with much that was nice, or tasty, or for that matter, very much at all. Angus was used to that.

His parents weren't here. Every other adult seemed to think he should be having... well... just about anything.

In deference to his parents, he picked out two broccoli florets and added them to his plate. In deference to his taste buds, he drowned them in cheese sauce. Then, because he just plain wanted to, he picked out three samples of things he'd always wanted to try. He didn't overdo it. Well. He didn't overdo it a  _lot._ One of the many kitchen people slipped him a cupcake. They always wanted to slip him a cupcake or a jelly.

This time, Angus did not politely refuse.

He brought his loaded tray back to where the three Reclaimers were arguing nutrition with each other. Though Magnus couldn't argue that well with a mouth full of bacon.

Taako only took a break from his side of things long enough to say, "Now that's more fuckin' like it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1]: Cheap as dirt and with a similar taste, blacker than an unlit coal mine, stronger than the gods' love, and with enough sugar to sweeten the heart of Asmodeus himself.


	19. Nonny Request #15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> may I request Taako running around pretending to be a scientist of a sorts observing the behaviors of his friends and family, for example " we see an Aglet in his natural territory, the library. oh, look it seems he's attracted someone (aka, he and Agatha)" and Kravitz joins in on this goof. " Ah! it's a wild Angus!" I find these sorts of things to be hilarious and love them to pieces. Thankyou for taking the time to read this have a good night/day!
> 
> [AN: I’m assuming you mean Angus, not their kid]

In retrospect, the IPRE should never have sent along a means by which the crew of the Starblaster could record moving pictures. The extended mission recorded some thousands of moving scrolls, and so very many of them were Taako taking the piss from his fellow crewmembers.

He was imitating Fantasy David Attenborough[1] in this one, camera trained at Lup and Barry having an awkward conversation far down the hall. “The mating habits of the common nerd have yet to be... unravelled. As you can see, both of these nerds are sending clear signals to the other. Both are obviously ready to mate. Tragically, they are also so fucking oblivious to these signals, that mating is not likely to occur.”

“What the--?” said Lup. “Taako what the fuck are you doing?”

There were hundreds of scrolls in a similar theme. All preserved in the Bureau of Benevolence archives. Sorted by mission, seriousness, and coping strategies. There were more than a few vlogs of sole survivors. Teary-eyed and talking to the device as if they were talking to their absent comrades.

Given the sheer volume of Taako’s in-mission shenanigans, it was a really  _big_  mistake to gift him with his own Fantasy Video Camera for Candlenights.

He was imitating Fantasy David Attenborough again. Filming Angus arraying his evidence on the Big Table. “We see here the male nerd rearranging a display to attract the attention of his mate. As with all nerds, the display contains a dazzling array of differing information.”

Angus glared at his adopted Papa, rolled his eyes, and got on with his work.

“And here comes the mate, bearing gifts of theobromine in order to stimulate their intellectual pursuits. They will likely talk about the display for  _hours_  on end whilst consuming the theobromine.”

Agatha put down the cups and muffins. “Uh... what the hell is he doing?”

“He thinks we’re working too hard, so he’s goofing too hard.” Angus made a gesture with both hands. “Balances things out. Ignore him. He’ll get tired of it eventually.”

“The male has just reassured the female that I am not a threat. Tragically, many nerds have lost their lives from underestimating invaders into their territories.”

“Sir, if you mess up our evidence, you’ll have to tidy it up again.”

“That was a threat display,” said Taako. “Nerds can be dangerous when riled. We are going to resume from a safer, more distant location.”

Agatha giggled. “Is this your dad third-wheeling us?”

“That, or he’s bored and trying to get a rise out of us. It’s hard to tell. Ninety percent of Papa’s motivation is boredom.”

Taako remained in character. “That was a base and accurate truth.” He set up the camera whilst allegedly hiding from his son and his girlfriend. “Let’s watch the interaction as the nerds attempt to impress each other.”

Angus shook his head. “He’s overdue for another adventure,” he said. “This is my evidence. What have you got?”

Agatha dug into her satchel of holding, adding to the array of items.

“Having shown her his, the female shows him hers.”

“Oh. My. Gods...” Agatha whimpered, her dark skin growing darker around her cheeks.

“Don’t be gross,” said Angus, not looking up from the table where two brilliant minds were gathering proof. “We’re making you an adventure, the least you could do is be nice about it.”

Taako shut off the Fantasy Video Camera. “You two kids want some brain food while I wait?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] David Attenborough is definitely a Druid/Ranger with maybe a level or three of Wizard.


	20. Nonny Request #16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Got a Taz fic request for ya! Angus and the tres horny boys are out and about when they run into Angus’ parents. Maybe they try to take him with them or just threateningly say he shouldn’t have ran away, and Angus gets scared. Cue the Angus protection squad
> 
> [AN: Oooh, there are so many headcannons flying around about Ango’s parents. I’m going with abuse-by-micromanagement]

“Fold your fingertips under and push with your knuckles,” instructed Lup, who couldn’t coach Angus by physically moving him around.

“Tip of the knife against the chopping board,” reminded Taako. He held his hands behind his back so that he wouldn’t spook Angus by absently touching him. It had taken less than a day for Taako to realise that Angus didn’t like being physically manipulated and adjust his teaching style accordingly. “Just slice and move the zucchini. Slice and move.” He created an illusion of tiny hands doing the motions with the help of Prestidigitation, so Angus could see.

Angus, tongue stuck out of his mouth because he did that when he was having difficulty with a task, focussed so intensely on doing what he was shown that he never saw the two figures rapidly approaching the open-air kitchen that the trio were using for cooking lessons.

He didn’t see them until one yelled, “Angus Fortitude McDonald!”

Angus nearly sliced his knuckles off. He dropped the knife and backed away from his work in progress. “I was only learning,” he said.

“Honestly,  _this_  is how you show your gratitude?” chided his mother.

“We give you a place in the best academy in Faerun, and the first thing you do is run away to play detective?” said his father.

“We set you up for a lifetime career. The  _best_  career,” said his mother. “Theoretical multiplanar rune research. And  _this_  is how you repay us.”

“Uh,” said Magnus Burnsides, bringing in lumber for the fires. “Who are you guys?”

_“And_  you’re associating with  _ruffians,”_  sniffed his mother.

“We are going to have a long talk about why you thought it was appropriate to interfere with our memories, young man,” said his father. Which meant that his parents were going to talk and he would have to stand still and listen and answer only when asked to answer, but otherwise stay there and take the haranguing. “Do you even remember any of your manners? Or did you wipe those out through the voidfish as well.”

“Excuse me, but his name is Fisher,” said Magnus. “And the baby is called Junior.”

Angus cleared his throat and ran himself through the mental exercises he did to keep a calm and steady voice even when he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. “Mister August McDonald, Missus Abigail McDonald... it is my pleasure to introduce Lup and Taako, from Tre Llew-Ddion, Magnus Burnsides...” he cleared his throat again because his voice cracked, “late of Ravensroost, and Merle Highchurch,” who was napping in a nearby hammock. “The three men are the team from the Bureau of Balance known as Tres Horny Boys. The lady is... Taako’s twin sister. Everyone? These... are my...” his voice died on the word ‘parents’. He couldn’t say it.

“Ee-NUN-see-ate,” scolded his father.

“Project,” declared his mother. “We gave you elocution classes, at least  _pretend_  our money was well spent.”

Merle started awake, peered at the parents, and said, “Who are these assholes?”

“Honestly, the company you’ve fallen into,” tutted his father.

By now, all he could see was his own shoes and a haze of unshed tears. They were going to take him away. They were going to take him away from everything and everyone that he loved and shut him up in the kind of boarding school that was the next best thing to a prison and a poorhouse combined and claim they were doing his best for him.

“Stand up straight,” chided his father.

“Boys don’t cry,” snapped his mother.

“Do I incinerate them now, or wait ‘till later?” said Lup.

Angus peeked towards Taako, who was fidgeting with his KrEbStAr with a speculative look in his eye. Taako caught Angus looking. “Made ‘em forget you, huh?”

Angus nodded. “...’essir...”

“I can see why.”

Magnus put himself between Angus and his parents. He never did like to see any living creature bullied. “Step. Off. Give the kid some air.”

“You think you can intimidate  _us?”_  said his father.

_“We’re_  his rightful parents,” said his mother. “If you don’t give him to us, we can get the law involved."

“We’re the ones who love him,” said his father.

Taako, looking as smug as a cat in a canary farm, said, “Prove it.” The smirk grew smugger. “Not with what you’ve given him, but with what you know about him.”

They set it up so that it could be fair. A kind of quiz show contest officiated by Lucretia with Taako and Magnus on one side and Mr and Mrs McDonald on the other.

Each question was judged by Angus, sitting under Merle’s Zone of Truth. Points arranged on a big board by Carey and Killian.

“Question one,” said Lucretia. “What is Angus’ favourite activity?”

Mrs McDonald said, “Homework, of course.”

Taako won that one with, “Solving mysteries.”

On it went. Favourite dessert: “None, he doesn’t have dessert.”/ “Bananoffee pie with extra marshmallow fluff and chocolate sprinkles.” Magnus won.

Best friend: “Lord Quisling of Bazilforte.”/ “Mavis Highchurch-Roughridge.” Taako  _and_  Magnus answered simultaneously and won.

Favourite rainy day activity: “Studying like a good boy.”/ “Reading those Caleb Cleveland books in a pillow fort with at least two cats and a hot chocolate.” Taako won because he provided both cats and hot chocolate.

Most-loved extracurricular activity: “None, all his activities should be curricular.”/ “Magic lessons with Taako,” answered Taako, while Magnus answered, “Acrobatics lessons with Carey.” They both won a point together.

And finally, the destroying, “What makes Angus  _happy?”_  which the contestants had to write down.

His parents wrote,  _He has yet to learn how to be happy._  Taako and Magnus conferred and wrote,  _The life he chose for himself._

The Bureau of Balance obviously won by a landslide, but Lup had to rub it in. “A zero score. Seems to me you don’t know squat about your own kid.”

“This doesn’t prove anything,” protested his father. “We still have a right to our child.”

“Actually,” said Lucretia. “It proves neglect and abuse. By not knowing anything about your child, you’ve proven neglect. By not seeking out his happiness in any way, by enforcing a state of obvious misery, you’ve proven abuse. We could take it to a court of law, but it’s clear you’d lose and go to prison for your extant crimes. However, if you surrender your rights now, we will consider supervised visits--”

“Like  _fuck_  we will,” protested Tres Horny Boys in unison.

Lucretia glared at them. “We will  _consider_  supervised visits  _if_  you can demonstrate learning how to become decent, loving parents inside of a year. Starting with sensitivity training and child psychology classes. I hear Neverwinter University is running some flash courses for the... especially inept.”

“Burn!” Magnus yawped in glee.

His mother and father were lost for arguments. They looked - for the first time in Angus’ memory - completely lost.

Angus turned to Lup, who, as an actual lich, was not nearly as frightening as his own parents. “What just happened?”

“You’ve been adopted,” she said. “Grats. You have the entire BOB staff plus two liches plus probably one Reaper as your parents. You’re  _never_  going to run out of love, kiddo.”

That sounded... that sounded just perfect, come to think of it.


	21. Nonny Request #17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alicorniansheepyllama said:  
> Can you write a taz story where Angus does or says something embarrassing (like being too loud, interrupting something, or whatever) in front of other people with Taako and/or Magnus there, and he gets worried they’ll be upset with him because his parents always wanted him to make a good impression on people (or else) so he’s apologizing and stuff, and when they find out why, they set him straight.
> 
> [AN: Autistic!Angus so very much fits with the (s)mother and father I wrote yesterday]

“But sir,” Angus was arguing as he trailed along behind Tres Horny Boys on the moon, “There’s no reason why anything would be called ‘updog’, ‘bofa’, or ‘parfa’. If you could just explain it, I--”

Something else got his attention. The empty lot right beside the Fantasy Costco had an ‘Opening Soon’ poster and the logo was for B&N.  _Books and Nerd Shit._

Angus failed his will save. B&N was the best store in the world! They were always the first to have any Caleb Cleveland books and any of the merchandise, too. The fact that there was one coming onto the moon was the best news in his life.

He screamed in delight, jumping up and down and flapping his hands in a joy so pure that he completely lost awareness of where he was, what he was doing, and who was watching.

“What the shit?” said Magnus.

“Fuck!” Taako squawked.

“Whoah,” said Merle.

Angus froze, going from the heights of delight to the depths of terror in less than a nanosecond. He shrank into a defensive curl, arms wrapped around his head. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

"Hey, hey, hey, hey,” cooed Magnus. “Nobody’s gonna hurt you. We promise.”

“You scared some jelly outta me, li’l man,” said Taako. “What the fuck?”

Angus was already crying. “I’m sorry. Please don’t put me away...”

Even Merle had an expression of confused pity, but Angus couldn’t see it because of the tears. “What the hell is going on?” he wondered.

Angus was holding himself and rocking in place. “They’re gonna be so mad... They’re gonna send me away... I’ll never see any of you again...”

Taako, awkward at this sort of thing at the best of times, laid an awkward hand on Angus’ shoulder. “Cool your jets there, Ango. None of us know what the hell is going on, here.”

“Deep breaths, kid,” said Merle. “No fainting on the moon.”

“Do you need a hug?” offered Magnus.

Angus fell into the rowdy boy’s arms, shaking from head to toe. “They said never be loud. They said never jump around. They said I had to have quiet hands. Or they’d put me away in an institution and I’d never see anyone again.”

“Who’s ‘they’?” said Magnus.

A shuddering, indrawn breath. “...m’ mother ‘n’ father...”

“He has parents?” said Merle.

“Not any more,” said Taako. “Shits that treat a kid like that don’t deserve a kid like this.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Angus, feeling so much better about his place in the world.

“Don’t mention it,” said Taako. “Ever.”

He sank down again. “Oh. Yeah. You have a brand.”

“So...” said Magnus, still hugging the boy detective. “What the hell made you do that?”

Angus pointed. “There’s B and N moving in, sirs. It’s only the best store in the whole wide world. I got so excited I forgot myself.”

Magnus let him go, keeping a hand on his shoulder. “Sounds to me like you remembered yourself.”

“Yeah, autism is nothing to be ashamed of, kid,” said Merle.

Angus frowned. “Is this another updog thing?”

“You. Don’t. Know...?” said Taako. “There’s a library right fuckin’ there,” he pointed out the enormous library dome. “Look it up. It’s no goof.”

Angus took the time to look it up after he had settled down. It wasn’t a goof. It was the exact thing he had in his noggin, but the best news of all was one simple fact.

There was nothing wrong with him.


	22. Nonny Request #18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Can you write more of that story where Taako and Kravitz adopt Angus? Like, them actually meeting and adopting him, and those first days before he met everyone else? My Angus loving heart needs it pls!!!
> 
> [AN: I got good news for you, Nonny! I’m planning a longer version over in my plot kittens file. So I’m doing a much briefer version here.]

It started on the first Candlenights after the Hunger War. The only time he had had to chill out, snuggle down, and watch Fantasy Television with his main man, Kravitz. Everyone was nearly asleep thanks to the Candlenights feast, and the evening news was playing because nobody had the energy to reach for the Fantasy Remote. Besides, one of the cats was probably sleeping on it.

They were up to the puff pieces. Orphanages receiving Candlenights’ toys. Taako was particularly struck by the faces as they pretended to smile. He knew this ruse. They all had to cluster under the Candlenights Tree and pretend to enjoy opening presents that they had spent all day wrapping before the Fantasy News people stopped by. They all had to smile and pretend that these were the best presents in the world. The ones who actually got on the news got extra favours for a month.

There was a tiny boy in the arms of a gigantic teddy bear, with tears in his eyes. The smile on his face was fake as, but that didn’t matter because he was cute.

“Aaaww...” cooed Krav. “Poor little mite’s overwhelmed.”

“Overwhelmed that it isn’t real,” mumbled Lup.

“We spent some time in places like that,” said Taako. “Babe? I wanna rescue one of those kids. Give ‘em a chance.”

Krav chuckled. “Sure thing, babe. You bring me the paperwork and I’ll sign it. I’ll even come to any interviews you arrange.” He was probably thinking that this would be yet another pipe dream that Taako would soon dismiss as too much work.

He was so very, very wrong.

Four months later, he was attending inspections with Taako to make sure that the eventual home of a child they hadn’t met yet was up to snuff. Considering that this was the twins’ grandfather’s old farm, there was a lot to fix. Starting with the old-fashioned kludgie-holes that they were gradually installing proper toilets over.

Two months after that, they were walking around what looked like the shittiest orphanage in Faerun. Taako kept muttering ‘typical’ over and over again. The clothes were grey. The walls were grey. The linoleum was only black and white by way of a technicality. Heat avoided these places. The boys’ wards always smelled of pee and pinesol. The former because the nasty ones literally pissed on everything they could aim at.

Their tour guide was patiently explaining that things were sterilised with ammonia. Lying through her teeth. Taako kept walking until they were shown the sun room, where the babies were adopted by heteros and the sickly kids were allowed to stay so they’d be warm and moderately healthier.

There, the world’s tiniest child was seated in the window and reading a very thick book. Taako ignored the bloviating about the babies to creep up and see what the kid was reading.

Caleb Cleveland and something-or-other. It had been heavily censored. All the action scenes were left up to the imagination.

_This one,_  he thought.  _I’m taking this one into my family._

This was a kid who had given up, so he was mostly silent on the first handful of visits. Nervy kid. Terrified of doing something wrong. He saw largesse from Taako as more of the usual glitter that would -to his mind- inevitably get taken away.

Taako spent most of their bonding time in the kitchen. Helping Angus to cook up some delicious shit. Helping him get used to making mistakes. Not being overly concerned when the kid inevitably messed up, as kids could do. Even when he dropped a bowl, Taako’s first concern was that those bare little feet and soft little hands weren’t cut by the sharp china fragments that had scattered around. He hadn’t even noticed it until Angus pointed it out.

Krav bonded with the help of Caleb Cleveland. They bought the entire set so far and Krav used his adorkable Bard skills to do all kinds of character voices. Taako brought in snacks and drinks and took a few turns reading as well.

Visit by visit, little by little, Angus started to believe that he was wanted. Smiles started appearing on his face. He started growing more open to hugs. Thanks to Taako’s cooking, the general prognosis started to look more positive.

It took well over a year, but they finally signed the last piece of paperwork. Angus was  _his._  Theirs. Whatever. He was  _family._

They would be having a welcome-to-our-home party on the soonest Tuesday. The one day that everyone had off.

“Brace yourself, kiddo,” said Taako. “Now you’re mine, I wanna try kissing your face off.”

Angus giggled. “You can certainly try, sir.” He threw his arms around Taako’s neck for a very successful grapple roll.

Taako, for once, didn’t care who heard him purr or who saw the happy tears in his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot kittens file at this URL: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1BjGBO71GuvFf4N_D3MfmvHH5xXfCWzHmPXIdOz1j_Eo/edit?usp=sharing


	23. Nonny Request #19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Can you do one where Angus almost drowns, and the tres horny boys save him? Maybe Magnus actually saves him from the water, Taako keeps the harsh waves at bay or levitates them back when he does it, and merle heals him or does cpr or something? I'm just picturing something like arms outstretched

They were visiting the beach, so of course Taako busted out his surfboard. He cut an interesting figure, gliding across the waves as if it were magic. Angus, still learning how to swim, was distracted by the spectacle.

He almost didn’t hear Magnus yell, “Watch out for the riptide!”

Angus had just enough time to say, “The what?” Before the water yanked him under. There was swirling, and he couldn’t tell which way was up, and rough coral cut him and something hit his head and then all was darkness.

“SHIT!” Magnus bellowed. he took a deep breath and dove into the riptide, trying to at least be there for the kid.

Taako saw the whole thing, including a very small figure zipping underneath him. Followed not closely enough by the big lug with the minimal perception score. He flicked the surfboard around and rode away from the cresting wave he’d been riding, paddling with his hands to get extra speed. He cast Water Breathing on Angus and Magnus, and hoped that he was in time.

Under the water, Magnus felt gills grow. His vision cleared in the briny deep, and he could see Angus floating limply in the water. He had gills, too, but they didn’t seem to be working. Blood plumed out from some wounds. He started swimming towards the kid, hoping he got there before the shadows in the depths.

Taako summoned his new pet from his pirate adventure, bidding it to look for  _those_  humanmen and bring them to Taako. Magnus freaked at the sight of a giant octopus. He wasn’t that great about anything with eight legs. Taako had his eyes on the kid, Mango could look after himself.

The Octopus was gentle, of course, bringing Angus carefully up to the surface.

Angus wasn’t breathing.

They were far from the shore and Angus wasn’t breathing.

Taako got Magnus on the surfboard and said, “Take this back to shore.” He stepped onto the octopus and used that as a steed to get most of the way back to shore. For the last twenty feet, he got the octopus to throw them.

He landed near Merle, who was ready to cast Spare the Dying. Both of them together wrestled air into Angus’ lungs.

Taako only breathed when Angus recovered from coughing and spitting up water. “I told you he should’a gone swimming in the lagoon.”

“No you didn’t, I did,” argued Merle.  _“You_  said he’d be fine.”

“Can’t prove it,” said Taako.

Angus shakily sat up. “Thank you, sirs. I thought I was a goner for a second there.”

“Take it easy for a few,” advised Taako. “Not everyone can be a wizard of the waves like Taako.”

Somewhere, out in the ocean, Magnus yelled, “Taako! How do you make it go?”


	24. Nonny Request #20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Can I request half elf Ango ( like around 6 years old) getting sick, but trying to hide it? Like he doesn't want to bother anyone, reminded how the orphanage was still cruel and complained of him getting Ill ( which is a lot he was a very, very small boy) thank you and have a good day/night
> 
> [AN: More on the Young Angus Verse, or YAV for short!]

Some times, it was hard to remember that he was part of the family forever. Times like this, in the middle of the night, when his throat was scratchy and he kept being both too hot and too cold. When he had to get up to pee and almost ralphed with the flashbacks.

He kept smelling pine. He kept seeing grey. He kept feeling the eternal cold and damp of the boys’ ward.

_Sick again? Really, Mr McDonald... what are we going to do with you?_

Angus drank water, because nobody complained about him needing water, and changed into his warm winter pyjamas and huddled in a tight ball under his blankets. If he just got enough rest, if he was quiet enough, then nobody would punish him for being an ordeal.

If he could pretend it was all normal, then nobody would be rough with him in forcing him to get better.

He woke up with the alarm. Filing out in step with the other boys, to the kludgies where his toes burned in spite of how cold the floors normally were. From there, to the bathroom where he waited to be called.

“Angel? Angus, sweetie, do you need me to get your shower ready? It’s a school day, hon.”

Angus turned and nearly screamed. Mr Thud was talking with Mr Taako’s voice. He looked so angry.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice rasping. “Did I miss the nurses call?”

“Nurses?” Mr Thud knelt and a jingle happened when he moved his arms. “Angel... You’re not okay...”

“I’ll be fine,” he rasped. “Don’t keep me away from the sunshine? I didn’t mean it.”

“Ooohhh kay...” Mr Thud’s image crooned. “Tell me five things you see, okay sweetheart?”

Five things. He could see five things. “I see a floor mat. I see a... bathtub...” it wasn’t tin. It was set into the glittering cream tiles. “I see a sink basin. I see... a shower stall...” Mr Thud wasn’t there any more. “I see you, Mr Taako.”

“That’s good, that’s good. I’m gonna put my hand on your noggin, okay? Just real gentle. You go ahead and tell me all about four things you can hear.”

Jingle jingle jingle, went his bangles. “I hear your jewellery. I hear... Mr Kravitz feeding the cats.” He closed his eyes. “I hear the kettle boiling. And I hear the upper branches creaking.”

“That’s very good, Angus. I’m gonna touch you on the side of your jaw and neck. It’s okay to let me know if it hurts. If you can, tell me about three things you can feel.”

Angus reached out. “I feel th’ glass of the shower stall. It’s nice an’ cool. I feel your hands... ow...”

“Sorry, baby.” Mr Taako got way more gentle.

“Your hands are nice and soft.”

“Uhuh. One more thing you can feel. You can do this.”

He rubbed the fabric of his pyjamas. “I can feel soft, warm flannel.”

“Excellent. Give me a big sniff and tell me two things you can smell.”

“I can smell your cologne... and... there’s jam cooking? Strawberries?”

He wasn’t Mr Taako. He was Papa. He’d been Papa for some time, now. “That’s great,” he cooed. “Can I  pick you up?”

Angus nodded, leaning into the hold. His world felt so much safer with Papa holding him. Especially when Papa held him between Dad and himself.

“Last thing. What does your mouth taste like, now?”

Angus flexed his tongue in his mouth. “Morning funk. I didn’t brush my teeth.”

“Don’t worry about that, sweetheart.” They were headed towards the big cuddle cote, where it was always a nice temperature and half the cats spent their nap times.

“‘S a school day. I’m s’posed’a go t’ school.”

“Not any more. Change of plans.” Papa stopped. “Krav? Can you call the school? We got a case of swellneck here. I think the modern name is mumps?”

“On it, babe,” said Dad. He started dialling a frequency on the nearest Stone of Farspeech.

“I got mumps?” Angus croaked.

“Yeah. Not your fault. I blame Susan and her anti-vax friends. You  _were_  going to get your boosters next week, but...” Papa sighed. “We'll burn that bridge when we get to it.”

It was nice in the cuddle cote. It was always nice in the cuddle cote. Room enough to sprawl out and laze around with up to ten adults. Angus picked a space where the household cats weren’t napping and got as comfy as he could.

Papa used Prestidigitation to heat one piece of towelling and cool another. Angus got to pick which one felt the best around his swollen neck. The warm one made him feel better.

“The bad news is, you’re out of circulation for a week or two,” said Papa.

“The good news,” said Dad, entering with a tray, “is you get all the ice cream, custard, and jelly you want.”

“And soup,” said Taako. “Can’t forget soup.”

Angus had a smile despite how horrible he was feeling. This wasn’t the orphanage any more. It would get easier to remember that as time went by.


	25. Nonny Request #21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Can I request Taako And Ango, specifically the first time Ango felt safe enough to put around Taako, and his reaction to it? Thank you so much for reading this!
> 
> [AN: You skipped a few words there, but I can see them. “His arms” right?]

For the first three overnights, Angus was nearly mute, very rarely expressing himself with words. For the first week away from the orphanage, he gradually got bold enough to speak in complete sentences. That was when prospective parents decided that he was too much work and went looking for easier children to adopt.

Therefore, it was the second week-long stay with Mr Taako and Mr Kravitz that Angus started having nightmares. Vivid ones that didn’t always go away when he woke up. Or ones that continued when he woke up, and woke up, and woke up again.

Mr Taakko clued on inside of two nights. “Never got this far, huh?” he said, his hands busy with something pastry-based. Mr Taako cooked his emotions and stress always made for the airiest desserts. He wasn’t stressed  _because_  of Angus, he explained, he was stressed  _about_  Angus. No small child should have to endure this horseshit, he had said. Frequently. “Scared we’ll throw you off for a better model, trade you in or whatever.” He exchanged one bowl for another, whipping and whipping and  _whipping_  at some cream. “No matter how often I tell you it ain’t happening, it’s still hard to believe, right?”

“You hit the nail on the head, there, sir.”

Mr Taako nodded, his hands never stopped working. Putting his stress and worry into frothing up assorted batters or rolling flat assorted doughs. The hands moved on their own as Mr Taako thought out loud. “I gotta tell you, kiddo. I hardly went through that. I always had my sister to show me I wasn’t alone, that I always had someone on my team.” Fold, fold, fold, went his hands, then dish, dish, dish as he filled folded pastry with something he’d literally whipped up. “You need someone who’s just...  _there.”_  He said. “Up for a potential-family sleepover in the cuddle cote tonight?”

Angus understood  _most_  of those words, but in context, together, they sounded like nonsense. Especially ‘cuddle cote’. “What’s a cuddle cote, sir?”

Mr Taako showed him, once he was finished putting the latest chain of creations in the oven. It was a rounded space with a low ceiling. Made for crawling through but mostly designed for laying down or cuddling up in. In the wayback times, a whole family would take up one cote and cuddle and snuggle together. Babies would be in the trundle-pods, off to the sides, never far from someone who could look after them, and never endangered by larger bodies in the cote.

Angus noted that he could fit in some of the larger trundle pods, all scrunched up and secure in his own little bubble. Once he evicted two or three cats, of course.

“If you wanna curl up in there, that’s your prerogative, Ango, but Krav and I will be right here if you need us. Guaranteed me, though. Krav sometimes has to scootch off on Bird Mom business.”

That was... a slightly unnerving wrinkle in things. He could count the Raven Queen herself - a literal goddess - as an adopted grandmother. The chain of illogic evaded him, but it seemed to fit Mr Taako like a glove.

Just like this old Elven farmhouse. Just like all the irregular insanity that seemed to be Mr Taako’s facts of existence.

That night, Mr Taako showed Angus and Mr Kravitz the whole workings of the cuddle cote. How to plump up the mattresses and how to use all the cushions and pillows and blankets. Where the exits were and where they lead to, and how the entire space lit up with fairy lights whenever anyone was awake, or how the whole cote was protected from the worst and messiest of accidents by recently refreshed runes.

Not that Angus had ever had a bed-wetting accident since he was two years old, but it was nice to know that the facility was there. Just in case.

The sleepover included snacks and drinks and quiet talk and funny stories until Angus curled up with one of the cats in his pre-selected trundle pod. Mr Taako tucked them in and then snuggled with Mr Kravitz as the lights got dimmer and dimmer and sleep came naturally as breathing.

Unfortunately, so did the nightmares.

The same ammonia-scented nightmare as always, that he was back in the cold, damp, unfeeling halls of the orphanage. That he’d never left. That his life with Mr Taako and Mr Kravitz was all a fever dream. That he was sick. That he was dying. That nobody cared...

“Angus... Angel. I’m right here. Papa’s right here, honey. You’re having a bad dream. Come on. Come on back to us.”

The fairy lights, subtly glowing runes, and organic curves of the cuddle cote didn’t mesh well with the industrial bareness of the orphanage. Angus was never happier to see Mr Taako’s luminescent mismatched eyes in the half-light.

There was no need to think about it. He just lunged out of the trundle pod and threw his arms around Mr Taako. He smelled of safety. Which, in this case, was of baked goods, cinnamon, and his slightly floral cologne.

Mr Taako returned the embrace, producing a soft and comforting purr. “I gotcha, baby. I gotcha. You want up and out?”

Angus nodded.

Mr Taako lifted him out of the trundle pod, taking the blanket with and sort of rolling Angus between two adult bodies. One dead to the world, so to speak.

“Mrnh?” said Mr Kravitz, sort of rolling over.

“Bad dream. Baby needs cuddles.”

“Mm-hm...” Mr Kravitz scootched up and put an arm around them both. His even breathing and Mr Taako’s gentle purr and both their arms around him made him feel safer than he ever remembered feeling. This time, when he slept, no nightmares could break through.

His next awareness was Mr Kravitz moving and wiping some tears from Mr Taako’s face. “Tears, love?”

“Liquid happiness,” said Mr Taako. “Our boy’s starting to accept us.”

Angus didn’t protest. This was, after all, the reason he was having the nightmares in the first place; because he feared all this wonderful being taken away.


	26. Nonny Request #22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Hopping on the AAT (Angus Angst Train) Can you write one where Angus has an allergic reaction to some type of food (a really bad reaction) but Taako is there with an epipen for his own allergies to save the day
> 
> [AN: I am now coining the word Angstus. Both portmanteau of ‘angst’ and ‘Angus’ and a combo of the words “angst us” which is kind of appropriate for the topic.]

Of all the foods in all the world, the one least expected to be allergic to was the one Angus discovered on his third day on the moon. He didn’t discover this by logical deduction nor a greater perception check. He didn’t even discover it by solving a hideous murder.

No. Angus discovered this one by the dumbest of dumb luck: by nearly fucking dying.

The realisation had dawned on the boy detective that, as a fellow employee of the Bureau of Balance, Angus McDonald had nobody telling him what to do. No parents to yell at him about a complete breakfast. No mandatory requirements for breakfast. No necessity of porridge and  _no_  insistence on  _bran._

Angus dished himself up a sampler from the buffet bar. A little bit of this, a little bit of that, quite a lot more syrup than should be rational because he  _was_  a ten-year-old boy. He put a little bit of everything that he hadn’t been allowed to have, including one of the fashionable new bread rolls with the seeds on top.

“Good to see you branching out, Mr McDonald,” said Madam Director. She was evidently feeling picky, since she usually sent Davenport to collect some fried fare and a large mug of coffee. “Do try to remember that fruits and vegetables exist.”

Angus blushed a little and said, “I’ll get some next time, ma’am. It’s just that I’ve never had any of this stuff before.”

“Pace yourself,” she said, scooping herself a bowl of something gelatinous and greasy-looking with bits in it.

“Yes’m.” Angus found a table next to his heroes, the Reclaimers, so he could listen in to what passed for their morning conversation. There was gradually more of it as Taako surfaced from his early morning stupor, and Magnus gradually ran out of bacon to cram into his mouth.

Whilst his heroes were returning to full consciousness, he had plenty of flavours to explore. Sweet and savoury and so tasty and he had to wonder why his parents insisted so hard on limiting his diet. This was all  _wonderful._

It was all wonderful. At least until he took a single bite of the sesame seeded bun.

One bite was enough.

His mouth felt funny. His face felt weird. He started having trouble breathing in at all. His mouth and lips and throat started to feel like they were burning. The hand holding the bun was swollen up like a fantasy balloon.

People were yelling. Some were running around, but Angus couldn’t focus so much on that because his entire body was burning and he couldn’t breathe and the world was fading away and his heart was racing and he was so scared...

Someone knocked him flat on the floor.

Someone stabbed him in the thigh.

Someone said the word ‘tracheotomy’, but by then, something else was working. Breath came easier. The fires in his veins were dying down.

Taako was leaning over him. Pressing something into his leg.

“Thur?” he managed, tongue feeling like an old tennis ball. “Wa’th goin’ on?”

Taako was looking like he was reliving an old nightmare. “That was one shit of an allergic reaction, my dude. You almost went into anaphylactic shock there.” The thing jabbing into his thigh was a special crystal. Very thin and pencil-shaped. A blue cap at one end dangled loose and Taako’s thumb was pressed so hard against that end that the flesh was white. It took him a will save to remove it at last from Angus’ leg. There was a small trace of blood at the sharp end. “You’re real lucky I carry my own, little man.”

Magnus helped him sit up. “If you wanna throw up, aim  _away_  from the people who helped you.”

The quenching fires came out in a cold sweat. Angus felt shaky all over. Parts of him were still swollen, but they were going down. “Whad ith tha’ thur?”

“Fantasy epi-pen. Gives your bod what it needs to fight off a severe allergic reaction.” Taako very carefully placed the spent crystal in with the trash on his table. He dug an unused one out of a handy pocket. “They’re one charge wonders, unfortunately.” He showed Angus how to use it, but did not expend the spare in the process. “Red to the thigh, blue to the sky,” he repeated. “Press and hold for as long as you can.”

Finally, the Bureau Clerics turned up to cast Cure Poison and analyse what went wrong. Given the speed of the reaction, the only suspect was the sesame seeds on the new rolls.

“You took your sweet damn time,” grumbled Merle.

“You didn’t even try healing the kid,” complained Magnus.

“Yeah this literal child was almost killed by a fucking  _garnish,”_  complained Taako. He was suddenly staring into a very bad memory. “...a fucking garnish...”

“...’m okay now, thank you, thur,” Angus rasped.

“We’re going to take him off for a full allergen test,” said the attending Cleric. “The diagnostic warlocks should have no trouble detecting any other allergens that young Mr McDonald should steer clear of.”

“Uh... maybe that should be done  _first_  in future?” said Magnus.

“A garnish...” Taako kept repeating. “The garnish... garnish...”

Angus was more worried about Taako than he was about himself. Something about garnish really disturbed his favourite wizard. That, alas, had to be a mystery for another day.

Today was going to get eaten up with tests and scrying and, eventually, some results. He had to sit put and fight boredom and watch his swellings gradually deflate back into their normal configuration.

He wasn’t alone. People from all over the Bureau stopped by to see how he was doing. Avi, Johann, Magnus, Carey, Killian, Merle... even Davenport and Madam Director. They came with puzzles and little tokens.

Towards the end of the day, Taako arrived with a book.  _Caleb Cleveland and the Sinister Chef._  “This one’s based on something that actually happened. Looks like it’s your favourite.”

“I’m feeling a lot better, sir,” Angus said. “Would you like to sit and read with me?”

“No,” Taako turned and made for the exit. He stopped just on the threshold. “Thanks anyway.”


	27. Nonny Request #23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Ah! That was my bad, it was supposed to be " pur around Taako" so aka first time he felt safe enough to pur around his family. But that was still sweet!
> 
> [AN: Well, now I owe y’all an Ango purring fic. It is continuing on from the last Young Angus fic. The morning after the nightmares before. Tomorrow’s tale will be happening in AO3 just FYI]

Angus yawned as he lay in Mr Taako’s arms. Let Mr Taako finger-comb his hair. His eyes kept wanting to close and the bedding was soft and warm and he felt safe, which was a big deal for him.

Mr Taako had called Angus ‘our boy’. That was a big deal, too.

A soft rumble began in his chest, an echo of the contentment that he was only just now starting to realise he felt. He’d never purred before, not that he could easily recall. For a moment, his purr stuttered and faltered.

Mr Taako kept petting his hair. “It’s okay,” he cooed. “It’s okay. It’s all natural, and it’s always allowed.” As if to demonstrate, he, too, purred. Soft and relaxing and reassuring.

Angus let himself relax. Let all of the trepidation he usually felt evaporate. Let the sensation of safety and security fill him up like one of Mr Taako’s delicious meals. The rumble came back with a vengeance.

Mr Taako gripped him tighter for a little bit, and Angus suspected that more liquid joy was leaking out of his eyes. That thought made him purr even louder. Him and the cats and Mr Taako and the laziness of a relaxed morning when nothing urgent needed to happen.

Eventually, the purring slowed as morning discomforts made themselves known. A full bladder and an empty stomach made rising from their nest a necessity.

As always, Mr Taako offered him choices on how to start his morning. Shower or bath? Cereal, pancakes, or a fry-up? Mint or raspberry toothpaste? Somewhere in the middle of all those choices, including his choice of clothing, Mr Taako got dressed and organised the ingredients for the breakfast of Angus’ choice.

“Sir?” Angus asked in the middle of consuming his scrambled eggs. “Why are you soft and I’m loud?”

Mr Taako chuckled. “Oh, I can purr real loud from time to time,” he said. “Loud purrs are what happens when Elves feel totally safe and content. Let their family know by purring as loud as they can. You got yourself quite the engine, there, by the way.”

Angus didn’t want to think that something was causing Mr Taako to not feel safe and content. “So... you don’t have much of an engine?”

Mr Taako bit his lip. “It’s... uh... It’s a little different when an Elf is feeling parental, the purr... it gets softer. To help the child feel... well...”

“More content and secure?” prompted Angus.

“Yeah,” said Mr Taako. “That.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t have an easy time saying things, sometimes, kid. Angus. ‘Specially three small words like... I and love and you. In that order.”

“It’s okay, sir,” said Angus. “I noticed.”

“I don’t care what the judges in all of this say, sweetie, you’re my kid. The purring proves it.”

The rumble in Angus’ chest started up again with that statement.


	28. Reader Request #2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brightness_Random said:  
> On a related note, I very much enjoyed the chapter!! If you're still taking requests, could you do a follow up to this one? Angus obviously noticed that something is Up with Taako, and I would love to see him doing some independent research into the matter.
> 
> [AN: This is following up with the Angstus in chapter #26 just FYI]

The thing about resting from a close call is that it messes with the sleep schedule. Angus was left restless and sleepless while he at least attempted to relax in the Bureau hospital bed. It certainly didn't help that his noggin was working overtime.

Taako was bothered by something that had happened, earlier that day. He kept repeating some words.

Angus took out his notebook and focussed his memory past the panic and the pain that had overtaken his dome piece at the time. Putting himself back into the moment whilst still detaching himself from the emotions that had clouded his perception.

Garnish.

Taako used to run a travelling show. A cooking show. Obviously, that show had imploded at some point. Something very bad, because Taako continued to have food issues. Maybe he'd always had issues with food? One thing was certain, though, he certainly didn't cook any more.

Angus wrote:

_Taako used to run a cooking show._

_Something happened to that._

_Taako doesn't cook any more._

He thought some more and circled the word  _garnish_ on the same page. He added the word  _bad_ and an arrow pointing from it to 'garnish'.

He wrote,  _What happened to Sizzle it Up! With Taako?_

He couldn't answer any of those questions in the dark and on his sickbed. He called an attending Cleric, who was only slightly grumpy for the disturbance in the middle of the night. "Sorry, ma'am, but I can't sleep. Is it possible to get some newspapers about the last showing of  _Sizzle it Up! With Taako?"_  

"I'd rather get you a sleep potion," she said, "Alas, Madam Director told me that you get anything you want during your recovery. Are you fine to read you book for an hour while I get them out of the library?"

He was only up to chapter five in  _Caleb Cleveland and the Sinister Chef,_ so it really wasn't a problem. "I can wait for that time and more, thank you, ma'am."

More memories came back to him.  _This one's based on something that actually happened,_ Taako has said. Was it connected? If so, how accurately? The scene of the crime was vivid in its descriptive detail. The burned husk of the Stage Coach, the fifty bodies strewn over the ground, fallen where they had stood. The miasma of poison, left by the victims' last breaths. The only survivor, grazing nonchalantly at the scene, because the only survivor was one of the two horses used to pull the wagons and carts.

He almost jumped out of his skin when the newspapers landed on his bed. A headline on the top one had huge letters and proclaimed:  _FORTY DEAD IN GLAMOUR SPRINGS!_ The woodcut of the scene was remarkably like the scene he'd just read in the novel. L. L. Lyre had evidently thought that fifty was more dramatic, but everything else was more or less the same.

Oh. Shit.

Angus read everything about the last show. About the dead. About the scene left behind. He wrote down the things that didn't fit.

_Elderberry garnish - > victims w. elderberries in pockets/hands._

_Arsenic poisoning?_

_Witnesses say Taako not appearing nervous, anxious before show._

Angus knew Taako was not a cold-blooded killer. If he was, he wouldn't look like that when he was talking about a deadly garnish. There had to be something amiss. One of the newspapers showed that Taako had an assistant. Sazed Baker. Originally some nobody from some tiny town called Mudwater Hollow. Apart from that, there was little about Taako's roadie/manager/sous chef/driver/etcetera.

Taako was certainly acting like a guilty man, but... if he believed the poison was in the garnish, then why were so many dead who didn't eat it?

Angus wrote:  _Elderberries & deadly nightshade look similar... arsenic symptoms different._

Arsenic on elderberries would be detectable. Arsenic in a garlic sauce would be difficult to find, if at all. Taako's last dish had, just like the book, been forty-clove garlic chicken. A guilty person would simply deny anything related to the crime. Taako could barely keep an alias straight. He couldn't keep a story like that together unless he believed it.

Realisation dawned. Even if he didn't have a very good Cleric with Speak To The Dead to interview a victim, there was still one other witness. Someone who had been on the scene. Someone who might have seen something that could be useful. Sazed. The assistant.

Which left him with one question, which he wrote down.

_How to find a person that nobody noticed for four-five years?_

In the meantime... he'd have to ready a good question to get Taako's side of things without letting him know that Angus was working this case. That... might take some time.


	29. Nonny Request #24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Aw, poor Taako! He has bad memories about that huh? That made me think of a prompt. Angus gets food poisoning from something (you can decide) and is bed ridden s
> 
> [Continuation in my inbox: “Bed ridden sick but not life threatening. Taako is freaking out though"]

Taako avoided the fish without thinking. His heightened Elven senses told him that something was suspicious about that fish. Magnus and Merle each had their reasons to avoid the fish.

Angus didn’t. He was ten. He didn’t know any better. He just thought that it was supposed to be like that and tried it for the sake of trying something new. He’d never had that kind of fish before, and didn’t know how it should smell or what it should taste like or how it should be properly cooked.

He didn’t get sick for a few hours. Food poisoning is a slow and steady infliction. Thus, the connect between the underdone, over-spoiled fish was hard to deduce. Angus didn’t even start feeling sick until after a few fellow employees asked him if he was feeling well.

“Here,” Taako handed him one of his ‘morning after’ mints. “These always help me feel better.”

Angus didn’t make it all the way through a polite, “Thank you sir,” before the fish got their revenge. His guts felt like they were on fire  _and_  stabbed  _and_  tying themselves into knots.

The fish tasted even worse on the way up.

Taako screamed.

The next thing Angus knew, he was in the Bureau hospital, feeling like he’d been beaten against a rock, wrung out, and hung up to dry. He was shivering and under a fantasy heat blanket.

“It can’t be the mint, right?” said Taako, somewhere outside Angus’ personal aura of pain. “He barely had it in his mouth and everything came up.”

“Sir,” sighed one of the base Clerics as if they were done with explaining this like three conversations ago. “This is due to something he ate earlier. As food poisoning cases go, this one is pretty severe, but--”

“POISON?! He was  _poisoned?_  Who the  _fuck_  would poison a literal  _baby?”_

Angus tried to say that he was ten and therefore not a baby, but all that emanated from his mouth was an inchoate mumble.

“Do your fucking job,” Taako demanded, his voice harsher and shriller than normal. “He’s still  _sick...”_

“Yes,” sighed the Cleric. “He needs rest, now. Try not to make any further loud noises.”

Angus could hear Taako attempting to steady his breathing. “He’s gonna be okay, right? He’s not gonna die or anything?”

“He’s just going to be sick for a little while. He just needs rest. That’s all.”

Cleric footfalls retreated. There was no sound from Taako’s signature heels. As Angus remained under the thrall of semi-consciousness, he felt an adult’s hand take his.

Warm. There were rings on the fingers and the faint impression of lacquered nails. As the minutes passed, another hand attempted to take Angus’ pulse.

Angus tried to say, “I’m okay, sir,” but again, there was nothing that came out that could be called a word.

“Horseshit,” said Taako. “You were doing constitution saving throws there, kiddo. That’s scary beans.”

Angus tried to say, “I’m sorry.”

“Couldn’t be helped. Those were bad fish. Couldn’t you tell?”

Angus sank into a dreamless sleep. When he next rose up, he could open his eyes and Taako was apparently still there. “...’ve I missed magic day?” he croaked.

“Probably,” said Taako, stretching in his chair. He hadn’t redone his braids in two days, it looked like. He was still wearing the same clothes from the staff meeting when he got sick. He could plausibly clean his clothes with Prestidigitation, but the other signs of just staying there and barely moving were evident. “You can do some make-up shit later on. First, though, you need to learn some shit, nerd boy.”

Angus didn’t say a single thing about how he knew Taako had been right by his side the entire time. “What sort of stuff, sir?”

“How to tell good food from bad food. Seriously. This is basic survival check shit. If it smells rotten, it probably is. And then you  _don’t_  eat it. M’kay?”

“I didn’t know it was rotten, sir. I thought it was supposed to be like that.”

Taako rolled his eyes. “All right. Looks like we’re gonna have to start from super noob level. Train that ineffective humanman snootsniffer you got there.” Prestidigitation made the illusion of a fish and a delicious cooked fish smell. Both hovering under Angus’ nose. “Good or bad?”

His stomach still shivered, but he said, “Smells real good, sir.”

“Excellent. A plus.” The scent changed to something really pungently disgusting. “Good or bad.”

“Real bad,” Angus croaked. He covered his mouth lest anything else come up.

“Okay, now we got ourselves a baseline,” said Taako, dismissing the smell for something familiar. The cafeteria fish. “Good or bad?”

“Now that I know what good fish smells like, sir? And also because I think this is what made me sick? I know it’s bad, sir.”

“Gotta make sure.” Taako never said why. He never said why he stayed right there in Angus’ hospital room until he was absolutely certain that Angus was on the mend.

Angus knew better than to ask. He just appreciated it while it lasted.


	30. Nonny Request #25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> You are truly the patron saint of angstus. Can I request a story where Angus follows THB to wonderland and gets to suffer along with them. How do THB react? Do they let him make sacrifices?

The names on the door read as follows:  _Magnus Burnsides, Taako from TV, Merle Highchurch,_  and  _Angus McDonald._

Tres Horny Boys read the last name out in unison, with varying degrees of disgust and alarm.

Taako’s pack said, “Sorry, sir. I’m in your pocket spa. If you could take it out for a second, please?”

Taako took it out and shook it enough to dislodge one small detective, who landed on his feet because he was just naturally fucking gifted, the little shit. “Nice try, kiddo, but - what the fuck...?”

“This is the most dangerous mission we’ve ever been on, Ango, what were you thinking?”

Angus looked at the ground. “I thought that if I was undetectable, I’d be able to watch and help. The Felicity WIlds are kind’a famous for negating... um... stones of farspeech? I didn’t wanna worry about you the whole time, so...” He sighed. “I’ll just go back to the base.”

As he turned to walk away, the door closed and a disembodied voice said, “All entrants must go through the portal before the games can begin...”

A different voice said, “You’ve come this far. You’re so close to winning the ultimate grand prize.”

“Aw shee-it,” grumbled Merle.

“Fuuuck,” sighed Taako.

“Aw beans,” tutted Magnus. “Awright. You’re with us, apparently. This is  _not_  gonna be pretty.”

“You might not live through this,” said Taako. He looked uncharacteristically concerned about that part.

“We don’t have much of a choice,” argued Angus. “For the record, I’m very sorry about this.”

* * *

 

He’d gambled away some of his dexterity, paid his first magnifying glass on the wheel of sacrifice. Insisted that game theory told them to always pick forsake. He had rolled Bad Luck and nearly beefed it.

And now a lich was on their side, against two other liches that were using the animus bell to feed themselves misery. Making the black smoke of sorrow into things to counter the things that the other liches summoned to battle the team.

Magnus wasn’t Magnus any more. Taako had flat-out collapsed, and all Angus had on his side was some entry-level cantrips. Well. Entry-level cantrips and the lessons he’d learned from Taako about how to press every single advantage.

He had refused to alter his intellect, no matter what. He could use that, and the few things he knew that liches were vulnerable to.

Radiant damage. The work of holy people. Clerics. Divine warlocks. Angus had multiclassed to become a sleuth, but religion was not one of those classes. Maybe. Maybe he’d gambled something else and paid the memory of doing that.

Then he remembered the first rule of Clerics: have faith.

Angus took a breath and murmured a prayer to any gods that might still be listening.

The gods weren’t there, but the residual threads of faith powered his plea to the divine.

He cast Sacred Flame on the two liches who ran wonderland, avoiding the one in the tattered red robe who was helping them. The screaming was intense, especially Magnus who screamed with two voices.

One of the mannequins was moving like Magnus, fighting the screaming lich in his body. Taako rose from his sprawl on the floor, just enough to fire spells from his Umbrastaff.

Merle did whatever he could with the little juice he had left to defeat Wonderlands’ liches.

A piece of debris from the black-matter shot towards him.

For the first time in his life, he failed a dex saving throw.

* * *

 

“I cast... Spare the Dying on Angus,” said Mr Highchurch.

“For the last time, you don’t need to say that out loud,” argued Taako. He laid a gentle hand on Angus’ chest as the kid struggled to get up. “Don’t move just yet, little man. You only got one hit point. I don’t wanna lose anyone else today.”

Wonderland was dissolving all around him. All around them. He could see Mr Highchurch, and Taako, and the mannequin form of Mr Burnsides. “Everyone’s here,” he complained.

“Um,” said Taako. “You remember that nice man you saw me with last week? Uh. He... works... in the Astral Plane...”

“You’re dating the  _grim reaper?”_  yawped Mr Burnsides.

Taako sighed, holding back tears. “Not any more. Something... I dunno. You saw it, Mango, right? Krav’s just...” He sniffed. Wiped his face. “Grab the fuckin’ bell. We got another fight ahead.”

He helped Angus up, and his grip was a little tighter than it normally would be. “Sir? Are you gonna be okay?”

“No,” said Taako. “I just watched the love of my life get eaten by tar. If we live through this? I’ll mourn later. M’kay? Gotta focus on what needs to be done.”

In retrospect, Angus figured that he might have been better off just worried about the Reclaimers.


	31. Nonny Request #26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> May I request some YHA ( young half elf ango) it is the Halloween, but ango probably doesn't have great memories at the orphanage of that. Taako and Kravitz making it a good one for him? Or Ango making his very first friend at school and telling Taako all about it? ( maybe June?) Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> [AN: Faerun doesn’t have Halloween, but it does have the midsummer festival with the eclipse and all, so I’m going there]

Taako guessed that there would be trouble when he asked, “Excited for the Summer Faire?” and got the answer, “No.”

He cast his mind back to the shittiest places he had ever survived, and the festivals he had been made to participate in, trying to fit his own horrible memories into the traditions of Faerun. “Bigger kids beat you up? Or were they working to be their scariest?”

“Both,” said Angus. “They always put me right in the middle of the games. Like... almost drowning me during apple bobbing. Or going to knock down the cans and then throwing the balls at me.”

“I get the picture.” Taako sucked on his teeth. “We both know none of those assholes are gonna be around to taunt you, but that’s not the point. Y’know... you could have the scariest costume?”

Angus, having learned Disguise Self, cast it and changed himself into the very image of his Aunt Lup when she was in her lich form. He even did the ghostly whisper. “How’s this...?”

“Well. Gotta tell ya. I ain’t scared ‘cause that’s my sister and you’re adorable. That spell only lasts an hour, though. I could go ahead and enchant an Angus-sized red robe to do that for you. Sound good?”

Angus was still for a long time, thinking about it. He eventually said, “Yes, sir.”

Taako didn’t expect much in the way of words from him. Not yet. “You think I’d look good as Caleb Cleveland?”

A shy smile dawned on his face. “Mr Kravitz is already doing Caleb Cleveland, sir. Perhaps a different hero?”

“Got any favourites?”

* * *

 

Caleb Cleveland was waiting, hand-in-hand with a tiny, flaming Lup from TV. “Hurry up, Taako!”

“Just a sec’,” he called from within. He emerged in an outfit so bright and loud that it would screw up any stealth check for life. Bright yellow pants with dark pinstripes. Mismatched patchwork vest. Bright blue polka-dotted tie, and an equally mismatched patchwork coat. Taako had a mop of brown curls in the place of his usual golden cascade. “You got any idea how hard it is to get this wig right?”

Angus was giggling.

“Yeah, laugh it up, little man. I’m never leaving your side the entire day.”

It wasn’t far to the local fair, especially not on the estate’s riding deer. Riding on a deer was up on Angus’ top ten as the most exciting thing to do. It was like flying whilst not fearing the end of a spell.

Everything was bright colours and lights and noise, but this was different to the pathetic fair of the orphanage. There were rides and music and stalls and Angus had two people on his side for a change.

Magnus was waiting for them. Dressed up like Taako, as he had been for the past two Summer Faires. This time, it was the red robe version. Full arcanist uniform and the jacket worn like a cape over the robe.

The faire was full of pint-sized Birds; even a few adults. Many fell to the usual standards of witches, warlocks, undead and famous figures from plays or moving scrolls. There were plenty of obvious store-bought costumes. A few dedicated cosplayers, and nobody was looking at Angus like he was target of the day.

A host of kids all looked his way and said, “Whooooaaahhh...”

One jumped up and down, pointing. “Mama, mama, mama, I wanna look like  _that,_  next year! Mama, look!”

The mother, a very tired woman in an ineffective vampire costume, wasn’t looking. She sighed, “That’s nice dear,” and kept looking through the stall she was rummaging through.

“Five seconds and you’re already the belle of the ball,” said Kravitz. “Where first?”

“Food? Fun? Frivolity?”

Angus broke his usual silence. “I wanna corn dog anna toffee apple anna cotton candy and I wanna watch Magnus’ Dog Circus.”

“Way to go, kiddo,” cheered Taako. “It’s not a good Summer Faire until you’re biliously ill.”

“You mean like on the tilt-a-whirl?” said Magnus.

“Puh-leez.  _Your_  hairy armpits with  _my_  signature look? That’s a constitution saving throw right there.”

Magnus laughed uproariously. “Yeah, you got a point. Hey, Ango, you remember Mitzi?”

Angus nodded.

“I need someone to be her hoop. Want me to call on you for the show?”

He didn’t need to think about that. Being part of a circus? That would make this the best day ever.


	32. Nonny Request #27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Oh dang. What if Angus goes to Taako who refuses to do anything, so Angus goes after Sazed himself. That could land him in hot water if Sazed is prepared to do anything to protect himself, even hurting a kid. Then Taako comes to save him just in time! Please write that!

“Sir?” Angus poked the Elven wizard, who was sprawled on a bench.

“I’m deep in meditation,” he lied.

“You’re hung over,” said Angus. “I just have one question for you, sir. And then I can help you unlock your suite so you can go back to bed.”

Taako’s baleful glare was full of red veins. “Fine. Ask.”

“What happened to Sazed Baker, sir?”

“Who?”

“Your assistant from  _Sizzle it Up! With Taako,_  sir.”

Taako moaned, hauling himself up into a roughly seated position. “He left me. Alone. Didn’t tell me where or why. He just left. He took the horse. He took the gold. He just... left. I didn’t look for him, I’m not gonna...” another red-eyed glare, “and you’re not either.”

“But sir...”

“Nope. It’s in the past. It’s done. Four years gone. Don’t even.”

“Sir, I have reason to believe that you were not to blame for the deaths in Glamour Springs.”

“You also have reason to believe in the tooth fairy. Hold up your side of the bargain, little man. Get me into my suite like you said you would.”

Angus did that, and then decided to do some sleuthing on his own.

People escaping the law tended to take different surnames. They kept their given names, and their birthdates. His first stop was the Neverwinter Hall of Records, looking up Sazed Baker, then anyone else who shared a birthdate who came out of nowhere within a few weeks of the final show of  _Sizzle it Up! With Taako._

Just as Angus predicted. Two weeks after Glamour Springs, there was a trail of Sazeds with the same birthdate. Sazed Vinter. Sazed Merrow. Sazed Raddler. Sazed Tailor. In every town where he took work, he had a different surname. He stuck to small towns, poor towns, and little backwaters where the news was less likely to reach.

He had been going from town to town, job to job, name to name, for four years.

There was a pattern. Sazed never took a name that encapsulated his actual skill. He was headed progressively further away from Glamour Springs. He always travelled via the back roads and, according to the records, Sazed was due to hit a tiny little village called Pig Wallow.

It was faster to catch the cannon there, following a trip via globe to the moon. He could outpace this man.

Angus didn’t believe Sazed to be a villain. He believed him to be a person of interest only.

That was just one mistake.

Another was going to a place like Pig Wallow in his fancy lad clothes.

* * *

 

“He did  _what?”_

“Young Mr McDonald has evidently tracked down someone from Taako’s past.” Madam Director. “Whilst I normally approve of his moonlighting as a detective, he’s taken to solving... you, Taako.”

“What?”

There was a copy of a headline on Angus’ wall of madness. Taako knew it well. He didn’t want to read it again.

“Oh gods,” said Magnus. “That’s why you stopped touring?”

Taako was already out of the room. “Let’s just hurry up and fetch the brat.”

Pig Wallow was exactly the kind of place that lived up to its name. Everything here was made out of mud. The crops grew in mud, most of them were used to feed the pigs that gave the little town its name. The people were muddy up to their knees, and bore an inbred suspicion of strangers.

Magnus, the closest to Angus’ natural skin tone, pretended to be Angus’ father, looking for his son who liked to dress up fancy and poke around asking questions.

Nobody had seen anything, of course. They didn’t trust anyone, until Magnus made an impassioned speech about Angus being the only family he had left after his wife died. Only after that did the fingers of suspicion point towards the newcomer. Sazed Carpenter. Who lived on the outskirts and kept to himself and raised pigs like everyone else.

By all reports, he was a fairly good swineherd. The most important part of those reports was that the fancy lad had last been seen heading towards the Carpenter hut.

Magnus rushed in. Taako summoned Garyl. In order to expedite their journey, he cast Levitate on Merle and towed him along like a weirdly ugly balloon.

The best news was that Angus had got Sazed monologuing.

“...first time’s always hard,” Sazed was saying. “Most times, it’s an accident. I intended to just make him sick. I should have thought things through. Stopped criticising his weight. If he’d just  _tasted_  his cooking... Nobody else would have had to die.”

Angus’ voice. “How does that connect with the string of missing persons in your trail, sir?”

A chuckle. “Sir. Nobody ever called me ‘sir’ in my entire life. For a smart kid, you’re kind’a stupid. Can’t you piece it together?”

“Given the victim profiles, sir, I can guess that they were chosen for their wealth. One thing eludes me, though. No trace was ever found of their bodies. How did you do that, sir?”

Taako could  _hear_  Sazed’s smirk. “Pigs will eat anything, and I’m a  _very_  good swineherd.” Taako could almost hear him preening. “They won’t find any trace of you, either. Nosy boy.”

Magnus rushed in, reducing the door to splinters as he did so. Taako, however, took aim and cast a spell full of tentacles and madness.

“Abraca-fuck you!”

Squirming tentacles summoned from a cthuloid void grappled Sazed. Magnus cut the table that Angus was bound to to shreds and Merle hustled the kid out and onto Garyl.

“Glad to see you alive, pint-size,” said Garyl. “You know you did a very stupid thing, right?”

“I did gather,” said Angus.

“Cool. Cool.”

The Reclaimers were back outside in seconds, breaking off from the fight and focussing on getting the hell out of Pig Wallow before the natives decided not to take a shine to these new strangers.

The Pig Wallow people had a very simple approach to strangers.

Angus didn’t say a thing about how tight Taako held him as they galloped away. He didn’t say a word about the wetness leaking from Taako’s mismatched eyes. He never said a thing about the elven wizard’s pounding heartbeat as they escaped a whole village full of peasants with torches.

He didn’t get to say anything about Sazed until they were in the globe and headed back to the moon.

“He admitted to trying to poison you, sir.”

“Fat lot of good it does,” said Taako. “Whole world still thinks it was me.” He wasn’t really looking at anything. “Could still have been me...”

Angus suspected that it wasn’t Taako at all. The problem was... there was no proof. 


	33. Nonny Request #28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> can I request the moment Angus finds out he's going to be a dad for the first time? thank you for reading this!

Agatha had been ill for weeks on end. Angus was scouring every possible cure and remedy that could plausibly work. He was in the library, researching more remedies, as Agatha was off to the family cleric’s. There were a lot of tests for them to run. It was going to take hours.

He’d already run through most of the anti-nausea remedies, and only a few worked. None of them were indicators of specific illnesses. He had it narrowed down to maybe five when Agatha added a sheet to his pile. Right under his nose.

Angus took a moment to re-focus on the hazy image. He thought his glasses had grease on them for a moment, but the blurry image was still a blurry image.

Grey haze, with a black circle in the middle, and on one side of that, a bean-like blob with five odd protrusions. Four small, one leading to the edge of the black void.

Agatha was leaning on the table and smirking like she was proud of herself. “Well?” she said.

Angus did a medicine check and only rolled a five. “This... doesn’t match any of your potential illnesses...”

“That’s ‘cause I’m not sick,” she chirped.

Angus levelled a puzzled look at her. “You’ve been throwing up every morning...”

“Yeah.  _Morning_  sickness.”

Once again, Angus was lost. He wasn’t used to this feeling. “That’s... not in any of these books.”

“It’s in this one,” Agatha handed over a kiddies’ primer entitled,  _How is Babby Formed?_

Wait. What? “He-- You-- We-- You mean--?”

“Baby’s baby,” said Agatha. “You’re gonna have to Stone your Dad. He sniffed it out at Candlenights.”

_Now_  everything slotted into place. “Oh shit. He’s gonna claim it’s twins.”

Agatha was watching her pocketwatch, mouthing a countdown under her breath.

Realisation hit Angus like a Balrog. “We made a baby. We’re havin’ a baby. Are you okay? Do you need me to run and fetch anything? Oh shit! Half of the stuff I was trying to give you could’a done some harm. Can they tell if I hurt it?”

“And there’s the freak-out,” Agatha smiled, and kissed him. “Everything’s fine. Relax. Breathe.”

“I’m’unna have to apologise to Taako.”

“Yup. Just... wait until your voice gets back to normal, okay?”

He hadn’t realised it was cracking. “Oohh-kay...” something in his head was dancing the cha-cha and singing about babies.

He was going to be a dad. Whoah.


	34. Nonny Request #29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Can you write one where Angus gets hurt during magic training? Either Taako accidentally hits him with something, Angus points his wand the wrong way because he’s overtired and not paying attention, or Taako is too busy to teach Angus one day and Angus tries to learn on his own.

Taako was feeling unwell. Brought down by the last vestiges of the moon’s Dire Flu, so Angus McDonald was doing independent study in the Bureau library. In other words, going through whatever magical tome caught his eye and looking for the coolest spells.

He could only do cantrips at the moment, so he was kind-of limited there. Shocking Grasp looked pretty awesome, considering how many bad guys tried to grapple him.

Angus read and re-read the spell. The pronunciation, the hand motions, and the feeling it should induce. He took the borrowed book out to the icosagon where nobody was currently training and tried it out.

Enthusiastically.

The training dummy didn’t give any indication that it was shocked, unfortunately. His hand refused to spark as he did the motions and words.

Then he made the mistake of adjusting his glasses.

Shocking Grasp is a contact spell. Angus temporarily forgot about that.

The next thing he knew, he was staring at the ceiling in the Bureau hospital, next to the only other patient. Taako, you know, from TV. Taako was red-eyed and miserable and sniffly.

Angus was blistered in interesting places. He had been told that he was lucky that he didn’t weld his glasses to his face.

“You look like shit,” Taako croaked.

“Same for you, sir,” rasped Angus.

“The fuck happened to you?”

“Tried learning a cantrip,” he said. “Shocking Grasp.”

“Said th’ word an’ fixed y’r glasses?”

Angus merely blushed.

“This is why you need a tutor,” said Taako. “Goose.”


	35. Nonny Request #30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Prompt if I can; Angus gets hit by a memory spell while out on a case and starts acting like he did for the adults at the orphanage. He’s too obedient to show he’s terrified of his new family, but they know. Taako brings him out of it by walking through all their good (and a few bad) memories together.

Ango didn’t have very many tells, but by now, Taako knew them all. The stiffly formal posture, the subtle air of trepidation, and, of course, the word ‘sir’ when referring to himself, Krav, or any other male in the immediate vicinity.

Angus was roughed up, and unfamiliar with his surroundings. “...did I do something bad, sir?” he squeaked. His voice was barely a whisper.

“Aw beans, I’m sorry kiddo. You’re gonna be okay.” Breathe. Focus. Tell the truth and don’t pull any goofs. He had to be careful with his goofs with his kid at this stage of things. “This is my fault. I zigged when I should’a zagged. You just stay put...” he got his first aid kit out of his pack. “I’m gonna ask you a few questions, and some of ‘em might seem silly but I need ya to be honest as you can, okay? I got stuff here to patch you up... can I do that?”

Angus nodded.

“To make it fair, you can ask me questions, too.” Taako cleared his throat. “What’s the last thing you remember before wakin’ up on the floor here?”

“...they gave me my birthday cupcake in the cafeteria, sir...”

“Really? Happy birthday. How old are you?”

“...three years old, today, sir... may i ask? ...who are you?”

Ouch. Ouch.  _Ouch._  Taako  _almost_  won the fight to keep the wince off his face. “This is gonna be a little bit difficult to take in, kiddo. Uhm. You’re  _five_  now. And... Krav -my husband- and I... we... we adopted you.”

Blam. Blank face. Not betraying anything and shutting down completely. Instant disbelief.

Taako struggled to keep a pleasant and calm demeanour. This was just like the early days, when he had to build trust. This made him want to puke. “This is an antiseptic salve, it won’t sting. Can I put it on your scrapes?”

Gods, he could grow to hate that blank-faced nod. Taako focussed intensely on getting all the scrapes and a small aura around them for the unbroken skin that could still sting.

Taako gained permission to add bandages. He had Caleb Cleveland brand bandages of healing in his kit, something that earned a flicker of surprise from Angus. “It looks like you got hit with a memory spell, sweetheart.” Oops, that was the wrong word to say. “I promise I will never hurt you, okay? There’s an inn near here. Big public space, relatively quiet. Want to go there?”

He hardly moved, but that was a nod.

Taako wracked his brains for all the old solutions that had helped in the early days when Ango was afraid of everything. He dug around in his pack and found what he was looking for. The trust rope. A brightly-coloured, short length of rope, turned into loops at both ends. “I gotta keep you close ‘cause I’m supposed to look after ya, right? So... I trust you to hang on to one end of this, and you trust me to...” his voice cracked, briefly. “You trust me to lead you safely where ya wanna go...”

* * *

 

The inn was good. Clean and happy, and full of people but not full enough to be too loud for Angus’ liking. There were nice people here. He sat properly and enjoyed the stew that Mr Taako had purchased.

Mr Taako was very upset. Stressed and close to tears. Worried and scared. He’d ordered the stew and a small beer for Angus, but nothing for himself. He was calling people on his Stone of Farspeech. 

Angus listened to the names. Kravitz. Lucretia. Merle. None of these names seemed familiar to him, unless he counted the Story and Song from the weird light. Mr Taako was from that story, but he didn’t seem like the callous hero he had become during that hundred-year journey. Mr Taako trembled and fought off tears. Something bad had to have happened to someone he cared about.

Because of the spell, Angus didn’t count himself in that group.

He sat politely, quietly, like a good boy. Listening to the inn’s bard. Watching as people arrived to look at him. An old male Dwarf with flowers in his beard and a living branch for one arm and a missing eye with an owl on the eyepatch. He spoke gruffly and was kind’a frightening. Angus had to roll a will save to stay exactly where he was. An older human woman who almost dripped gravitas as she sat with Mr Taako and spoke in a quiet voice.

A man in mostly black arrived and Mr Taako launched himself into the other man’s arms, and buried his face into the black-clad man’s shoulder. The gold band shining from this new stranger’s ebony fingers could indicate that this was the husband ‘Kravitz’ whom Mr Taako had spoken of. He confirmed it by kissing Mr Taako’s brow and murmuring, “It’s going to be all right, love. We’ll solve this. Jus’ breathe, darling.”

The older human woman was casting diagnostic spells, weaving patterns of light around Angus’ head. “The good news is, young Mr McDonald will recover in time.”

Mr Taako didn’t move from Mr Kravitz’s arms. “Gimmie the bad news, Luce.”

A deep breath. A long sigh. “He’s going to need familiarity in order to remember. An environment that he remembers, food... people...”

Now Mr Taako moved. Turning away from Mr Kravitz with tears in his eyes and a snarl on his face. “Find. Another. Way. Like  _fuck_  am I sending him back into that  _hell hole.”_

That was some real strong emotion. Angus could believe that Mr Taako had seen the orphanage and really didn’t like it. Angus could begin to believe that he could trust Mr Taako.

The older human woman said, “I’ll get the Bureau of Benevolence onto that dark magic cult your son had found. Mr McDonald? May I have your notebook? The clues you have in there would be a great advantage to us.”

Angus stared at her blankly.

“In your satchel, pumpkin. The... the one with the blue cover and the triangles like this,” Mr Taako showed a silver bracer on his left arm that featured four equilateral triangles making a diamond in the middle.

Angus had a satchel, and hadn’t dared to look in it in case it belonged to someone else. He gingerly opened it and found his own name in the inside flap. There was also a starter wand, a copy of a Caleb Cleveland book he never knew existed, a spare sweater, a mini umbrella... and the aforementioned notebook. Which also had his name on it. It had his writing in it, too. Names, addresses, leads and clues. Just like Caleb Cleveland would do.

Nobody was snatching it off him. Nobody was yelling at him to have it. Ms Lucretia was waiting patiently with one hand open, ready to receive it.

Angus passed it over. He summoned the courage to say, “...i hope you find them, ma’am...”

“We will,” said Ms Lucretia. “When we do, we will kick  _all_  their asses on your behalf.”

* * *

 

The house was a gigantic tree. Elven architecture, which meant that there were no flat walls, no completely level floors, and lots of winding passages between places. There were also a lot of cats who greeted him like an old friend.

“We’re... staying on the ground floor again,” said Mr Taako. “This old house is just like the one my grandfather used to have. Like. Exactly like the one my grandfather... eh, it’s complicated. Long story short, I inherited it via a technicality.” Mr Taako moved into the kitchen like it wanted him in there. It was a huge space, kept warm by the giant Aga stove. Twenty people could have been cooking in there at once and not one of them would bump elbows with another. He got together a bunch of ingredients on a counter and bowls and tools with them. “This is your home, Ango. And I’m cooking up one of your favourites. You can help if you wanna, I--” he sighed. “It’s okay if you don’t wanna.”

Mr Kravitz was looking at Mr Taako like his heart was breaking. “Dove... are you sure? I remember how much this wrecked you the first time...”

“Our boy is worth getting wrecked over,” said Mr Taako. “Again and again and again. I’ll get wrecked until I’m pulp, babe. Look at him and tell me he’s not worth it.”

Mr Kravitz looked at Angus, and did  _not_  tell Mr Taako that Angus wasn’t worth it. He said, “So let’s get this show on the road, Dove. I’ll be your happy helper.”

Mr Kravitz did funny voices that made Angus want to giggle in spite of himself. A cat came to sit on Angus’ lap and it demanded pets. Her name was Neopolitan and she was soft and fluffy and so very friendly. She purred really loud and helped Angus feel safe.

It was the smell of baking that brought a sensation of deja vu to Angus. This kitchen wasn’t too big. It was just right. And Taako was trying so hard to be brave about this whole mess. Angus remembered how to pet Neopolitan  _just so_  so that she would stretch out on his lap and keep his knees warm and stick her tongue out and drool a little. He’d always thought that was funny.

The taste of Taako’s ginger bread with butter and lashings of honey and cream brought back a vision of Candlenights, after all the presents had been opened. Watching some garbage on the fantasy television. Snuggled up under a big fluffy blanket between Papa and Dad, surrounded by purring and sleepy cats.

“Egg nog,” said Angus, and the memory was gone again.

Papa was pleased all the same. “That’s right, little man. This bread goes fucking  _fantastic_  with egg nog. Want me to whip you up some?”

In a snap, he was afraid again. Unfamiliar again. He could almost remember... but it was just out of reach. “...water, please, sir...”

Mr Taako and Mr Kravitz looked... stricken.

“It’s okay to want things,” said Mr Kravitz. “We have lots. We don’t mind.”

Mr Taako said, “I know how you like it... and how to make it so you don’t get troubles.”

Of course he did. Of  _course_  he did. They were family now. Family. There had been a huge party and the smallest dog ever and... And he didn’t know where he was. He didn’t know who these people were. He didn’t know why there was a cat on him or how he’d got this slice of... something that smelled like home. Something so familiar and not familiar at the same time and it all made him dizzy...

“Cuddle cote?” said Mr Kravitz.

“Cuddle cote,” decided Mr Taako.

They got permission to move him, and the cat protested softly as she was shifted to a couch. The next thing Angus knew, he was in a huge nest of pillows, blankets and mattresses, with Dad reading his favourite Caleb Cleveland book with his character voices, and Papa was fussing over him and he had a broken purr...

...and he remembered being sick. Really, really sick because their asshole neighbour Susan didn’t believe in vaccinations. But it was almost okay because he got to eat jelly and cream and delicious soups and Papa always made it better with a cooled towel...

...and waking up with nightmares of going back into the urine-soaked, permanently damp, cold, grey orphanage from whence he began. He knew it would be okay because Papa was there. Papa was  _right there_  with him and Dad could hold him too and help him feel safe and Papa’s purring would lull him to sleep...

...and the care and artistry that went into Angus’ daily bento boxes. Meat and the special cheese and vegetables and fruit, all arranged into scenes from Caleb Cleveland novels. And a special cupcake tucked away in its own container, with a little note that Papa or Dad had written to be certain he wasn’t lonely at school...

...and a bathtub filled with lemon-scented bubbles. Papa was soaked to the skin and laughing as he tickled Angus with the washcloth. He’d never let Angus fall...

“Papa,” Angus breathed. “Papa... Dad... I’m so sorry I forgot everything...”

His parents lunged, wrapping him up in a hug. Papa’s purr got very loud indeed in that moment, but soon gentled to a soft and soothing parental purr.

“We’re just glad you’re okay, baby,” Papa sighed.

“It’s good to have you back,” said Dad.

It was good to be back. Even with liquid happiness leaking out of his eyes.


	36. Nonny Request #31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Prompt, because I love how you write Angus! The kid won’t admit it, but being inside an enclosed space (like a carriage, a BoB sphere, etc) scares the hell out of him because the orphanage would regularly lock him in the closet when he misbehaved. It manages to go unnoticed until he ends up having a major panic attack/meltdown in front of Lucretia.

Angus was starting to get used to the farm. He liked the riding deer and they liked him back, and riding on them was like magic, even when Taako was doing all the steering with Angus perched in front.

It was such a shame that he had to go back for yet another assessment at the orphanage at the end of the month. He didn’t want to dread that day. He wanted to soak in as much Taako time as he could get. Which was why he was wrapped around the Elf in question whilst he talked on his Stone to some people.

Kravitz had left on urgent Reaper business. Taako’s so-far-invisible sister and brother-in-law were doing the same thing. Taako had just been called up for some Bureau business and he was calling around to various babysitting agencies to try and find someone to look after Angus.

Who did not want to let Taako go, at this point.

Finally, Taako sighed and carried them both outdoors to a fallow field. He pointed and touched the sigil on his silver bracer, then sort of danced with Angus in his arms.

“I know. I know. This is scary beans, right now. Listen. I do  _not_  want to leave you, okay? This is... this is hero stuff I gotta do. And... since there’s literally nobody I can hire to keep you safe, I gotta take you with me to the next safest place I know.”

Angus saw that Taako had his travel bag with. It looked like it was stuffed to the brim with all sorts of things. A soft toy poked out of one flap, and the rectangular shape in its bulk could easily be a Caleb Cleveland book. Angus deduced that this was not a trip back to the orphanage. Not with that much stuff crammed into the travel bag.

A gigantic sphere landed in the fallow field and Taako threw the travel bag into it, then fussed with the booster seat before he got into a chair by some controls.

“You and me? We’re going to the moon, little man.”

Angus couldn’t reach the travel bag. He could see the giant tree of a house fall away. Then the clouds. One of the moons was getting closer and closer. Taako offered his hand. Angus didn’t know about taking it. He’d already strapped him to a chair that was out of easy reach.

A crater on the moon opened up. Into darkness.

“It’s okay,” said Taako. “It’s safe.”

Pitch black. Angus could smell the rotten blood and foul sewerage stink of the Quiet Room. He felt cold invade his bones. He could feel the slimy mildew under his fingers.

Light shocked him. Angus half expected to see Mr Thud looming over him or Nurse Stronginthearm ready to literally carry him to the next destination. What there really was looked kind of like a city in the sky, all domes and what looked like glass and fancy people in blue. These were the heroes of the BOB. What was once the Bureau of Balance, and was now the Bureau of Benevolence. An organisation of the best of the best who went out and helped with problems all over Faerun.

“Okay. We’re here. I’m gonna pick you up and carry you out, is that okay?”

Angus could barely nod. He could still feel the cold of the Quiet Room. He could still smell its stench. It overpowered Taako’s cologne. Angus was still and quiet all the way to a grassy quad where Taako sat him down. The travel bag was close by, this time, as was Taako.

“I’m right here if you need a hug. Or, if you like, you can just reach out and feel the grass. I packed you everything you could need... all you have to do is look...”

Angus was just about to touch the grass when a pair of businesslike shoes appeared in his field of vision. That was the last straw. He screamed, curling up into a ball and waiting for the bad things to go away.

* * *

 

Taako glared up at Luce. This was, as far as he was concerned, another bad mark against a woman he had once trusted like a sister. The sister she had surgically removed from his memories. Sure, he got those memories  _back,_  but it was the ten-to twelve years without her memory that still stung. “I  _sent_  you a list of things to not  _do,_  Lucretia. You just did fucking five of them.”

He could see how her name hurt her, flung like that like a knife from his lips. She backed away. Circling around until she would be in view, but safely distant.

Taako focussed on Angus. Humming a popular tune and rattling his bracelets. Once Angus relaxed a little, Taako brushed the little boy’s skin with the ends of his hair. A golden braid against smooth, dark skin. “There now,” he cooed. “There now. I got the unicorn plush with. You want?”

A bare ghost of a nod. Angus reverted to Utterly Correct Posture. He was in a bad brain space, the poor kid.

Taako handed him the unicorn plush, which Angus faked a smile over and brushed. In a few minutes, the soft fuzz and squishiness would help him actually relax. Taako dug out one of the conditioning muffins and warmed it up with Prestidigitation. Angus liked them when they were warm.

Angus nibbled at it, watching Lucretia with wide, fearful eyes.

“This is Madam Director,” said Taako. “You’d remember her being a lot younger in the Story and Song.”

Madam Director said, “I could put on a red--”

“Shut,” warned Taako, one finger upraised. “She will not hurt you, Angus. She’s going to watch over you and make sure you’re safe. Okay?”

Angus had yet to look her in the face. He was watching her body for any kind of aggressive tell. Having nibbled the top off of the muffin, he was carefully peeling back the paper and nibbling the crumbs off it before he worked on the actual muffin. Eventually, he nodded.

“Okay,” said Taako. He got the Trust Rope out because Angus didn’t always feel safe holding anyone’s hand. “That’s good. I’m gonna trust you to hold one loop here and you’re gonna trust me to lead you somewhere safe, okay? Just like the other times.”

Nod.

“Stand up when you’re ready to go. I’m gonna talk to Madam Director. I’ll be close if you need help.”

Angus just nibbled on his muffin.

Taako got himself up, dusted himself off, and grit his teeth for the next part. He walked as calmly as he could manage over to her, gathering his thoughts. He said, “Remember cycle thirty-two? That little kid who never said a word?”

“Ember,” said Lucretia. Her eyes shed some tears. “I could never forget.”

“Angus is like her. Always get permission, always be gentle. Never lie. No cows’ milk or sesame seeds or anything that’s been near either. I got a bunch of meals in the bag, and one of his favourite books. He likes character voices. You should be able to handle it.”

Angus stood up, still clinging to the plush unicorn, still nibbling on his muffin.

Taako offered one end of the trust rope. “You might have to let something go, pumpkin...”

He surrendered the plush. 

Taako tucked it back into the bag and took up  the other end of the Trust Rope. Letting Lucretia also hold on to his loop. “Okay. Show us the way to the softest safe space you got, Madam Director.”

* * *

 

Two meals and a good nap later, Madam Director was still sitting quietly on a bean bag in the Soft Room on the Moon.

Angus knew that Taako disliked her, so he didn’t exactly want to talk at all near her. He had the unicorn plush, and his book, and Taako had packed a  _lot_  of meals in the special packs that kept them fresh and warm. There were notes,

So far, Angus had found,  _I know you don’t believe me, but I never want to leave you without anyone of your own._  He had also found,  _I never wanted to go, and I’m trying as hard as I can to get back to you._

Madam director had the cupcake wrapper that he had nibbled clean, and was folding and re-folding it on the padded floor. She seemed pleased with herself. “There,” she said. The wrapper was now folded into the shape of a peacock. “What do you think?”

Angus shrugged. He made himself comfortable in a corner far away from her and opened his book to where he’d left off.

“Want me to read with you?”

Only Kravitz was allowed to do that. Angus shook his head. There were no clocks in the soft room. Just a big square of a room with colourful walls and lots of padding and cushions and bean bags and fluffy blankets. He just finished an excellent fight scene when a familiar tearing meant that Kravitz had come for him. Angus turned just in time to see the scythe of his office evaporate.

“There’s our little boy,” Kravitz cooed.

Angus didn’t care about the implications of a child preferring the sweet embrace of Death than Madam Director’s company. He just ran for Kravitz because he knew Kravitz was safe.


	37. The Headcannon Zone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked, "I really want to draw fan art of your stories and I was wondering what you think Taako, Angus, and Kravitz look like? I know Taako typically has heterochromia in your stories so I was wondering what other designs you gave the family."
> 
> [AN: Apologies to everyone who was ramped up for a story here. There will be a story appearing later. I just felt that all this descriptive writing should not be lost to all but the archive crawlers. Thusly, the chapter has been named for ease of location/avoidance. Edits from the original Tumblr post because things make better sense that way.]

Oooh, I could go on for ages about this. I shall  _attempt_  to keep it succinct.

[Obligatory disclaimer: my headcanons are not your headcanons, I do not intend to offend anyone anywhere ever, if you see any of these characters differently, then that’s fine by me]

First up, the big one: There is only one White person in all of TAZ: Balance, and that is John Hunger. Pick a Hollywood Chris™, dye their hair black, and sharpen their features a little. Maybe a touch of grey at the temples, but that’s pretty much it. A black-and-white character with black-and-white views.

Edit: I tried not to go on for years, but… I rolled a one. FUCK, I went on for a millennia down there.

**The Twins:**

General face-claim… a very young Sir Ian McKellen with some morphing going on. If you’ve seen that photo of him at 27 you know exactly what I mean. The morphing in this case would be “animation girl snout” [look at 90% of modern animation. In order to baby-fy the ladies’ features, they have to give her a firkin  _muzzle_  in profile] and dusky skin. Like…

Somewhere between “mocha” and “toffee” in here [Powers, it’s hard to avoid objectifying POC when the makeup tones are literal foods and I’ve been told that that’s bad. I can feel the receipts piling up]

Sidenote: I used to think a young Danny Kaye would work for the twins’ faces, so if you can hit that sweet spot between him and Sir Ian, you’re doing amazing.

Definitely make their lips luscious. Remember the trademark tooth gap and please use a reference when drawing their buck teeth. [Half-hour rant about buck teeth not being a U with a line in the middle expunged]

Tosun Elves have cat-slit pupils if you want to draw that. Because of Faerun’s lower light levels, people don’t often perceive it.

The twins have amber-green heterochromia, but they’re not identical there. I’ve mentioned that they’re “dappled like a fawn” a couple of times to mention the vitiligo, and I have thrown in golden freckles more than a few times. Their ears are also deer-like and -apologies to all those peeps who love Elves with ENORMOUS ears- they don’t clear the tops of their heads.  Sorry, but that’s the Sensible Creature Design part of my noggin coming to the fore.

They are shorter than “regular” Elves because nutritional deprivation during their teen years. [Mosty by a head to two heads shorter]

I’m 100% behind “soft shell” Taako/twins. They have bellies and chub and are bordering on having double chins. They’re still young for Elves, so the Bingo Wings won’t show up until their late 500′s.

I also agree with the idea that the twins are blond(e) [girls get the ‘e’ and IDK why] but their hair looks like it was made out of gold. Before Wonderland, Taako never had a hair out of place.

 **Taako -**  His left eye is the green one. Which means, as you’re facing him, it appears on the right. I’ll separate his various looks by era. When grown, he is one inch shorter than his sister. When plump, Taako has moobs.

You don’t have to draw his “morphing hair syndrome” if you don’t want to. That’s just me being cute with the straight-hair/curly-hair factions of the fandom.

If you want to draw him reading, I headcannon that he has language specific dyslexia. Rose tinted glasses if he’s reading Elven, thanks. IDK if he’d employ the glasses when reading anything else, because he strikes me as a little vain in that aspect.

 _Pre-Ipre:_  Depending on when… generic small scruffy Elf larvae through plausibly adult and underweight youngin. It wasn’t until the twins lucked into free-ride education that they put on any kind of body mass. Clothing choices limited to (a) anything they could find (b) anything that would stay on.

 _IPRE:_  The IPRE has a uniform and it goes thusly - Black, polished, lace-up boots practical for hiking [Taako has transmuted his to have two inch heels]. Also black, high-waisted pants with a double, button fly. I imagine six buttons. Tosun doesn’t have elastic, so the white undershirt is a T-style with a lace-up neck. Arcanist robes are long-sleeved and red (dur) with gold trim. They’re split up the middle front, with the split beginning between the navel and the crotch. The sleeves are restrained inside red leather bracers (AC +1). Arcanists wear red wizarding hats with a sensible brim and a gold fabric accent on the crown. I have likened this to a traffic cone, so don’t be afraid to  _really_  make it look like that. The twins wear their jackets over their robes, but not like you may think. They wear their jackets like capes, over one shoulder, with like a heap of bling to keep it secured in a diagonal across the back. [It was once a military or pseudomilitary uniform, I saw it once in an old Zorro movie and I don’t know the name of the style and I’ve been on a 20-minute search through google to find it and I can’t please HELP]. The winter season uniform includes a red cloak with a hood and gold trim.

The twins have identical, just-past-shoulder-length haircuts for every reset.

 _Stolen Century:_  Early on, Taako stays in uniform, but he gets bored easily, so I can picture him going native HARD whenever he has the opportunity. You can draw him looking like a trash panda fashion plate and I am SOLD. During cycles where there’s no time for fashion, he generally defaults to what’s most practical for the local conditions and fuck gender stereotypes.

 _Lost Decade:_  Taako has two modes (1) Showtime and (2) Fuck it. Early in the lost decade, his shoes gradually get taller and taller heels until he stops at the four-inch mark. His hats are two feet tall, no question. Before Glamour Springs, he gradually gains weight. After Glamour Springs he rapidly loses it because of assorted reasons [fear of cooking, foodphobia, just not being able to forage enough, running from real or imagined detection, your choice]

Showtime mode Taako is elegantly turned out. Crisp Chef Whites and toque, elegant braids, no nail polish, and if there’s flowers in his hair, non-toxic flowers. His nails are trimmed to perfection. It’s during the decade that Taako grows out his hair. [Note - it never grows past his butt]

Fuck it mode Taako is Trash Panda Fashion Plate plus sparkle. He wears a wizarding hat that he decorates according to his mood and it never looks the same way twice. His hat is showy and ridiculous and often dripping with cheap, fake gems and gimcrack jewellery.

On the run, Taako’s clothing choices suddenly switch to BLAND AND UNNOTICABLE. He goes from wanting to be wanted to don’t notice me in a cold second. Muted colours, earth tones, ragged towards the beginning of Gerblins.

 _The Canon Zone:_  At the start of Gerblins, Taako is almost  unrecognisable to Taako from SC. Sunglasses to obscure his eyes, hair inexpertly dyed and fading to a really horrible colour. Taako has sold everything he owns bar the necessities at this point. No wonder he steals everything that isn’t nailed down.

As the canon arcs progress, Taako’s clothing gets slowly showier, but he doesn’t quite get to his former glory until after 11th Hour.

Post Wonderland, Taako’s lips are thinner, his hair is less glossy and more prone to flyaway hairs, and his skin has lost some of its former glow. It definitely shakes his confidence.

Haircuts and styles are up to you, but I always picture him with at least waist-length hair.

 **Lup-**  Lup’s right eye is the green one. She has bigger breasts than Taako and slightly wider hips but that’s about it. Her lich form shows off her skeleton more, and her red robes are ragged. You can’t immediately tell that she’s an Elf, but there should definitely be a fire theme to her lichy design.

I’ve frequently described Lich!Lup as “lightning in a Lup-shaped bottle” so take that wherever you like.

When drawing the twins together, you should make the viewer look for the subtlest signs that they’re different people.

During SC, Lup is the more likely twin to do something radical with her hair. She’s the more confident twin and older by forty-five minutes (and technically a day) so she always introduces Taako as her “dumb baby brother”. She’s taller than Taako by an inch, but only when they’re not wearing shoes.

Lup is also a Trash Panda Fashion Plate because she regularly steals her brother’s clothes, but after she and Barry get together, denim shows up in more of her clothing choices.

Lup is the most likely twin to slob around the house in a muumuu and little else. She is the comfort-over-style twin and still looks great because 90% of looking good in fashion is not giving a single fuck about what anyone else thinks.

When she puts effort into her look, she will blow the whole room away.

[Takes deep breath, reminds self to keep it brief. Realises that I’ve already failed]

**The Lover**

Barry Bluejeans hails from the Mongolian area if he was spawned on earth. Cram as much Tom Arnold as you can into there, but keep it recognisable that he is not white.

His uniform is always altered to include the denim that gave him his name [I highkey headcannon that his real name is Sildar Hallwinter, but the twins named him Barry Bluejeans and it really stuck]. His red robe is calf-length, A-line, and not split like the twins’.

Barry is just starting to bald, getting that salt-and-pepper into his hair, and has a doughy dad bod and the pasty pallor of someone who spends too much time indoors. Nerdy horn-rimmed glasses are a must. Tape on the nose piece is optional.

If you can find a way to put a fucking pocket protector on his Gerblins-era fighter armour, or his lichy red robes, you win a gold star.

**The Protector**

Magnus, in my mind, is Polynesian/Ainu and built like a brick shithouse. [AN: I have never seen a Polynesian man with facial hair so correct me if I’m wrong. I just love the red-brown skin tone and wavy hair]

He’s eighteen during SC, so he’s not at his full height yet [At full height, he’s half a head taller than Taako if they’re both in their socks]. He wears the jacket, which has heavy Horatio Hornblower vibes, and no shirt. He’s most likely to rip off the sleeves during a cycle. Bright-eyed and optimistic. Sideburns of course, but they’re restrained and neat. Most likely to transform into a shaggy boi during a cycle.

During the lost decade, the sideburns grow almost into mutton chops. Then Kalen happens and Magnus stops giving a shit about his appearance. Depression Beard™ at the start of Gerblins. Actually begins grooming himself again before Rockport Express.

Somewhere in the lost decade, Magnus had his nose broken. He got the scar across his left eye at the beginning of that timespan. Other scars at the artist’s discretion.

Armour choices are up to the artist, but bonuses for mix-and-match sources from outside of Europe.

**The Lonely Journal-Keeper**

Lucretia is canonically black and canonically has pale hair. This is a thing that happens and those folks are fucking gorgeous.

Stolen Century Lucretia is shy and indrawn and uses her books as a shield. Her hair is shoulder-length and kept in tight ringlets [there’s a post going around about how the Egyptian hairstyle was a real thing and I reblog it regularly you probably know the one] and out of her face with a red or gold hairband. Her red robe is also a calf-length A-line

Canon Zone Lucretia is stern, confident, and has gone grey. Her hair is either cropped short for practicality or kept in a whole bunch of braids that form a gordian knot of a bun in the back of her head. The staff is weirdly plain and her robes are ornate. Mostly blue and white, with orange accents and the BOB logo anywhere you can make it fit.

I always headcanon that the Bulwark Staff is a white oak branch that’s been cut to size and sanded and polished. The Starblaster crew didn’t have a lot of time for finesse. Most of them probably used something that was lying around.

Madam Director Lucretia always has that expression like she’s ten thousand percent done with everyone and everything. Looks into the camera like she’s in The Office. Diversions from this permanent expression happen when THB do their goofs, but her smiles are always tainted with epic loss.

Post-Canon Lucretia simplifies her robes and her hair as time passes. She smiles more often as time goes by.

**The Peacemaker**

Merle is a crunchy hippie type and you can pry that from my cold, dead hands. The only time he’s neat as a pin is on Launch Day of the Stolen Century. His skin is definitely brown, but I don’t know where exactly to pin his faceclaim ethnicity.

I keep leaning towards “very scruffy black Santa Claus” as a general description, here.

There are always flowers in his beard and though he’s balding in the ‘natural tonsure’ way, he puts what’s left of his hair up in a messy bun that’s held in place by some kind of vine.

His IPRE uniform is the Horatio Hornblower jacket and includes a Tree of Life pin to denote him as a Cleric.

His canonical armour has a Hawaiian print somehow(!) or his robes have a Hawaiian print on them. Artist’s choice.

**The Wordless One**

Davenport! He also has eras. I headcanon that he had BRIGHT GINGER hair, which makes the Not!White aspect… difficult. It’s a firkin fantasy. Give him olive skin and almond eyes. We don’t  _HAVE_  to stay with what’s on Earth, damnit.

Ears- smaller with points. Non-mobile.

Nose- takes up more of his face than a regular Human

 _IPRE:_  Davenport is a young gnome, and captain of an important mission, which is the first of its kind. His hair is short, his beard and moustache are neat and trimmed. Think… Commander Riker’s beard, only it comes to a point. His uniform includes the Horatio Hornblower jacket with calf-length tails, and fringed epaulettes. The tri-corner hat is only ever worn for the press on Launch Day. He has an air of commanding respect that means he doesn’t need the hat. He can loom at people despite being ahem-mumble-somewhere-under-four-feet-tall. This is a man who can make the twins apologise just by raising an eyebrow.

During the Stolen Century, he loosens up a little, but remains strict about keeping his ship and crew safe.

 _Canon Zone:_  Davenport is perfectly capable of looking after himself despite his linguistic limitations. He’s usually finely turned out in a high-quality suit with a bowtie. All in shades of blue. Lucretia shaves off his beard and lets his moustache grow out into a handlebar type, which Davenport then waxes and shapes.

 _Post-Canon:_  Gnomes go grey early in their lifespans and tend to have antigravity hair. Davenport spend 12-14 years under Lucretia’s artistic direction and has diverted his look away from that HARD. What taming there is of his hair is random braids with things in them. The rest of it is a shock of wavy white that will hold no hat. His clothing choices  _almost_  wander into Trash Panda but he’s too orderly a person to go the whole hog with it. Sloppy Pirate is generally the arena where he lands.

**Kravitz**

On the job, he’s the usual skeleton-in-a-robe with a scythe that you would expect the Grim Reaper to look like. Yawn. Boring.

In the flesh, so to speak, Kravitz is  _BLACK_. Like really black. You know those lovely folks who are so black that they have an iridescent sheen to their skin in the sunlight? That black.

He has sharp cheekbones and definitely works out. Acrobatic build. Before he meets Taako, his suits are either black or a deep plum and I inevitably picture him rocking a cravat. It has a bird skull pin.

I waver between Kravitz keeping his hair in locs or in cornrows, but they stop at his shoulder blades, regardless. He uses silver decorations and hair restraints on them. There is a definite skull/bones motif in his jewellery.

After he meets Taako, Kravitz adds a little more colour to his wardrobe. Red ties or pocket squares, a blue boutineer. A little more variation in the colour of his suit. He always looks runway ready when he goes anywhere.

At home, when no-one is going to see him but the family, he will pick two things that fit him off the floor and wear those.

**Angus McDonald**

Angus McDonald is a mixed heritage kid and definitely brown of skin. His hair is generally cut short and his dress choices are in the Fancy Lad Range.

I know everyone puts him in argyle sweater-vests, but consider branching out into embroidered waistcoats with pocket watches. Slashed sleeves. Lace collars. And puffy pants. Please. Meddle with fashion history. I need it.

He’s perpetually got a bowtie. There’s nothing I can do about that, folks. Likewise, he has his wand on a lanyard. No contest.

He almost always has a satchel on his person. worn across the body and it contains assorted useful objects for Detectiving.

Older!Angus winds up head and shoulders above Taako, which only mildly pisses him off. Angus is a lanky boi, who works out because Detectiving often involves directly fighting the bad guys. Tweed jacket with leather patches on the elbows is a must. Deerstalker and violin are up to the artist TBH.

**Julia Burnsides**

Give me taller-than-Magnus, beefier-than-Magnus, strong capable competent woman Julia, I needs it, precious…

She’s half a head taller than Magnus and can lift him off the ground if she wants to.

I frequently write her as a blacksmith who can throw a hammer forty yards and kill a Dire Wolf with it. Make her look like she could do that.

Ethnic model? India/Middle East or straight up Maori, I can’t make up my mind. Someone on Tumblr drew Julia with Maori chin tattoos and I fucking fell in love.

Her hair almost always ends up at shoulder length and she keeps it off her face with a red bandanna. The very same red bandanna that Magnus wears around his neck in the Canon Zone. [If I made you cry, just then, I win]

The Burnsides’ wedding rings are made by the other spouse. The one Julia wears is intricately carved and treated wood. Magnus’ is delicate wrought iron. They were both showing off when they were making those. [Yes, I know this is a detail that won’t make it into any art but this is where my heart is living so there]

Julia is a practical gal, in my mind. She’s almost always in tough, hard-wearing pants and a sensible top. For her wedding, it was all flowers and frills and soft pastels. She usually only wears a dress in the summer, but because of blacksmithing, her default footwear is boots.

**Agatha Tremaine/McDonald**

[Original Character Do Not Steal. I’m kidding, you can borrow her, but please give credit and let me know your thing exists] Agatha is around Angus’ age [maybe a bit older IDK] and yet another TAZ trademark Competent Woman. She’s multiclassed into potion brewing, alchemy, and investigative reporting. She also tinkers with things.

Ethnic model: India/Tibet

Her work outfit is staid and sensible. I end up imagining her in tweed with a plain, sensible blouse. She wears a bandolier filled with potions and Big Bangs [weaponised flash bulbs for her Fantasy Camera, the Obscura 6000]. She wears a newsie cap and keeps her hair in a short bob.

Like Angus, she wears her satchel across her body so that it can’t fall off.

She wears gloves when she’s going anywhere for appearances because her hands are nigh-permanently stained/scarred from chemicals and tinkering.

She may have in-universe invented those sunglasses that magnetically snap onto a person’s actual glasses because she firkin needed them. She keeps the snap-on sunnies in her breast pocket.

Agatha has searched Faerun for the right kind of boots to look fashionable, yet be battle-ready. She keeps them in good condition and recommends the cobbler to anyone who asks.

As for the Obscura 6000… It’s like one of those old-timey accordion cameras, only the lens looks like an actual eye. I want a weird pupil because, damn, that would look so fucking cool.

[Takes deep breath. Damn, I went on a bit]

I think I got the whole family. Did I miss anyone?


	38. Reader Request #3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kaptainkawaii666 said:  
> Hi! Can you please write a fic where Angus is being bullied/abused by someone close (Like Lucas or Merle) and doesn’t want to tell anyone. Taako eventually gets it out of him though, and goes into full protection mode.

Angus McDonald was small for his age, and proud of himself for qualifying into entrance into the Miller School of Academic Excellence. Taako also offered his own school, but the small boy had already argued that Taako could teach him everything anyway and it would count for extra credits.

Taako thought of it as the wrong school. Not that his was much better with the standing ‘hard knocks’ policy in regards to internal squabbles being solved with duels. Angus, smart though he was, was not emotionally resilient enough to withstand the slings and arrows of outraged fellow students.

Lucas Miller promised an arena focussed on education. Learning how to do things without much in the way of practical use within the halls. A much better environment for a scared and fragile lad like Angus.

He went with a skip in his step and optimism in his heart.

He came  _home_  with leaden feet and an ominous return of his former silence.

Taako was worried, but whipped up all his best comfort foods in snack form. It looked like he had lost what little there was of his appetite. “I’d have thought that nerd school would’a been next to heaven for ya,” he said, laying something creamy and sugary in a small bowl in front of his tiny son.

Angus sighed and poked at it with his fork.

“It wasn’t the teachers, I know they’re not stupid. One of the kids there?”

Angus held up four fingers.

“Four of ‘em. I bet it’s over stuff you can’t control, too. Let’s see... they got at you ‘cause you’re small, you’re skinny, and they called you all kinds of names. Am I spot on?”

Angus nodded and made a small ‘more’ gesture.

“They hurt you?” Now he felt like his heart was ready to explode. “Where?”

Angus pointed to his stomach.

“Bet they were all bigger than you, too.”

Nod.

“Not much detective work here. This is the same shit as always. I bet you didn’t want to make trouble.”

Nod.

“Yeah. Thing with trouble is... you gotta make it  _real_  good.” Taako smiled. “Don’cha worry, kid. Papa’s got your back. I’ll help you give those little shits more trouble then they’re bargained for. Tonight? I wanna teach you how to use Prestidigitation offensively...”

* * *

 

Angus apparently didn’t have anyone nearby as he walked through the gates of Miller School. The four who called themselves the Rough’n’Toughs laughed to each other as they elbowed their neighbours in the group.

As one, they moved to circle around Angus.

“Well, well, well,” cooed Big Jack. “The widdle baby came back...”

“Don’cha know this ain’t a kindergarten, kid?” said  _Jason._  One of those kids who was doomed to be spelled with italics. “You might have an accident in your pants.”

The kids’ lips moved, but no sound came out.

Greasy Dave said, “I think the liddle baby wants his mommy.”

“Wait,” said  _Darren._  Another doomed to permanent italics. “He doesn’t have a mommy.”

Which was the cue for all four of them to push him around within their circle, and chant, “You don’t have a mommy, you don’t have a mommy,” as they did so.

Taako appeared out of nowhere. He had an Orb of Recall in his hand. “Well, this is educational. I’m sure the office and your parents would love to see all of that.” He grinned. “By the way, guys, if you keep this sort of horsehit up, you might meet my main squeeze.” Taako directed their attention towards a figure in a black robe, carrying a scythe.

The Grim Reaper, floating across the ground, raised his blade up and said, “’Ave you lot been naughty boys?”

Of course they freaked and ran away.

Angus didn’t feel better immediately. He felt horrible. “...i couldn’t say anything,” he murmured. “...i couldn’t do anything.”

“Told ya I had your back, Ango,” breezed Taako.

Kravitz returned to his crisp, fleshy form. “I know how it can be when you’re used to bad things. Shutting down... it’s how some people cope.”

“Let’s make sure they can’t go crying to  _their_  moms,” said Taako. “Especially since we have evidence and they don’t.”

“...i couldn’t do anything,” murmured Angus.

“That’s okay,” soothed Kravitz. “That’s why we were here, just in case that happened.”

“For the record, I’d’a been cheering my ass off if you kicked their butts, baby.”

That?  _That_  made him feel a little better.


	39. Nonny Request #32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Can we get some more about that kid they Angola Luume adopted?

[AN: Pour les Artistes - Neosemo (an anagram of “someone” in case y’all missed it) is a half-orc teenager and on the scrawny side when Ango adopts the lad, his condition improves thereafter. Before this story, he is poorly groomed and has bad hygiene. This changes hereafter]

Neosemo attempted to keep track. Everyone knew about Luume, and how Elves were crazy, dangerous, and a combination of the two when that time of the decade hit. Miller Labs had come out with little wearable device to warn young Elves, those of irregular cycles, and literally everyone else around them that things were going to venture into interesting times.

It was still a work in progress.

Currently, he was realising that Luume-influenced adoption was way quicker and more effective than the official paperwork kind. Clerics were busy making certain that, as a Halfblood, Professor freaking McDonald’s Luume bonding was as effective as if he were a full Elf.

So far, he had interrupted the procedures three times to make certain Neosemo had adequate food, drink, and comfort. It kind’a seemed like it was pretty fucking effective to  _him._  One of the tests was to forcibly separate Neoseomo from McDonald’s perception and time how long the Professor took before fretting.

Half an hour. Pretty much right on the button for the fresh Luume adoption of a teen.

Neosemo hadn’t had much in the way of friendly contact. He and the gang he had hung out with usually communicated through punching. It was... kind’a shocking to have someone bigger and stronger than him just scoop him up and purr. It was really weird to have someone pet his hair.

Weird... but nice. He could get used to this.

“It’s going to be okay, now. We can stay in the townhouse until we work out stuff. I’m guessing you have friends? Associates?”

_Other strays?_  He shrugged. “There’s some people I hang out with, yeah. They’d pro’lly wanna throw a party.” This was part of Neosemo’s test. See if these fancy people sneered at his grammar and diction.

They didn’t. McDonald smirked like he knew exactly what was up. “I think I know a fresh grandfather who might like to throw a party. Just... be prepared for some drama.”

The nice lady -Agatha- who had at least kept the interesting times in check for the most disturbing day in Neosemo’s life, was now spraining herself attempting not to laugh. Her dark eyes were twinkling. She cleared her throat. “Dear, that’s like telling someone falling into a star to prepare for some heat.”

McDonald giggled a little and echoed, “Dear...” Luume still had him goofy, apparently, about this woman he had set his heart on.

“Focus,” said Agatha. “Step one. Let’s get somewhere safer and make sure everyone has what they need.”

“Papa’s gonna drag me for a year,” said McDonald, “but there’s a Harga’s nearby.”

Agatha said, “I’ll argue safe and familiar environment for you. You’ve been through enough.”

McDonald offered his hand, which Neosemo declined. Luume may be permanent, but trusting these people was not his first instinct.

“I’m cool with following,” he said. “There’s a meal in it.”

There was a steep learning curve. Starting with an interesting definition of ‘family’ from McDonald. The man had the Seven freaking Birds as immediate relatives, and none of them by blood. ‘Papa’ was  _the_  Taako, one of the famous Twins.

‘Home’ was an enormous Mountain Ygdrasi tree, shaped into a mansion. They were rich as fuck and actually worked at helping those with less advantages. Taako had free food depots all over Faerun, and anyone with the slightest lick of magical talent wound up in his school.

McDonald, who was Taako’s first rescue, saw absolutely nothing wrong with buying Neosemo a whole bunch of clothes and things, including some survival shit just in case Neosemo decided to run off on his own. 

Not likely. Kids like him  _prayed_  to come across a Luume-addled Elf and get a new home. With the Twins in the picture, some of the others might just get a better start anyway.

McDonald may be biologically compelled to nurture Neosemo, but the rest of the family weren’t. Neosemo only knew what he’d seen from the assorted plays he’d been able to sneak into. That sort of thing wasn’t an accurate or a pretty picture.

Harga’s was good. McDonald and Agatha payed for more than the all-you-can-gobble-for-an-hour special. They let Neosemo choose his own clothes, and state his levels of comfort.

It was shocking that McDonald knew what it was like from the adoptee side of things. He told the story of Faerun’s shittiest orphanage, his own rescue, and Taako’s experience with the shittiest corners of life.

It was so hard to believe that they’d been where he lived. That they knew all about fucked-up normals. That they were ready to fight anything that might drag him down. They had  _strategies._

Neosemo had a new bed. He wore pyjamas after his first family dinner. He knew that people were nearby to protect him.

He could get used to this.


	40. Nonny Request #33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Different anon here. I like the prompt of Angus being injured during training. Mind doing one of the other two suggestions? (Either Taako accidentally hits him with something, or Angus points his wand the wrong way because he’s overtired and not paying attention) Thank you!

It wasn’t exactly late. Not according to the clock. It was just that he was up all night doing research on the next Grand Relic and didn’t get the kind of sleep that a small boy truly needs to make it through another day.

People in higher education did this sort of thing all the time, and Angus was wondering how. Maybe it had something to do with being grown.

Right now, though, it was hard to focus on anything. He was distracted, disorganised, feeling debilitated. He had to admit, he was also a little disoriented. All of these were good reason to not be training in the Icosagon.

Angus ignored them. If the rest of the people here could train in any circumstances, then so could he.

That was why he made the critical mistake.

He’d been tumbling with Carey and Killian, working on some Rogue evasion skills with Magnus, when he heard Taako’s voice say, “Shield!”

That was a cantrip he knew. Something was arcing towards him through the air.

Angus thought,  _Magic Missile_  and lifted his wand.

It was pointed the wrong way.

Three D4 damage later, he woke up in the Base hospital. It was after dark and the lights were low and someone’s hand was on his. Angus reached out with his free hand, finding his glasses and the light switch. Fortunately, in that order.

The being holding his hand was Taako. Elves didn’t need sleep, they said, but  _this_  Elf seemed to be conked the fuck out. Slouched uncomfortably in a hospital chair that could easily double as a torture device. His impeccably white shirt was besmirched with blood and snot and some smoke on one shoulder.

Right where someone would cradle a bleeding child’s head as they ran to get that child to help.

Taako startled upright, mumbling, “...no chicken!” His mismatched eyes focussed and he instantly played like he was totally unconcerned. “I said  _shield,_  dingus. Not  _magic missile.”_  He rearranged his braid, swinging it over to mask the telltale shoulder from view. Too late. “Don’cha trust your tutor, kiddo?”

“I wasn’t thinking, sir,” said Angus.

“Clearly.”

“And I--” he blushed. He was mortified and ashamed and he didn’t want Magic Day to end because of this, but he had to tell the truth... “I didn’t obey rule two.”

Rule one: trust your tutor.

Rule two: get enough rest.

Taako heaved a sigh. “Agnes, Agnes, Agnes... Hot on a case, were ya?”

“I thought I had a lead, but it was a warlock trying to lure people in for a cult.” He still didn’t want to look Taako in the eye. “I didn’t realise the time until Ms Killian came to collect me for practice.”

“Rule three as well, huh?” Which was: always have a good breakfast. “That’s technically three rules in one day, boyo. Know what that means?”

Now the tears finally came. Now he couldn’t even look in Taako’s direction. Now he barely had a voice. “...magic day’s cancelled?”

“Hell fuck no, little man. If anything, magic day’s doubled.”

He couldn’t focus, what with the water in his eyes. “Pardon, sir?”

“You need to level up a little. Get yourself some fucking hit points. You almost wiped yourself out with a dumb mistake.”

Angus wiped his eyes and grinned. “Thank you sir...”

_“And...”_  Taako added. “You’re getting a fucking babysitter. You need people to remind you when it’s bedtime. Or breakfast-time, meal-time... Fuck, you need a whole gods-damned schedule.”

Shame still burned him. He could feel his freedom evaporating. “’M sorry, sir.”

“Buddy, it’s  _you_  you’re hurting here. I’m just one who’s tryin’a stop that.” Taako made play of inspecting his nails. “Probably everyone else on the base, now, after that stunt. You got yerself a base full’o parents by now.” A moment’s thought passed. “Maybe a gram’ma in the case of Madam Herself. You’ll be able to tell if she makes you sugar cookies. Now. Let’s see how good you are at following rule two. I’m on the roster for making sure you follow rule three as well.”

Angus woke to a luxurious breakfast and no sign of Taako. Waffles. Eggs. Bacon. Non-dairy, all of it. A gooey sweet compote of seasonal fruits. The first of his new, adopted mothers was waiting nearby. Killian.

“I dunno who cooked that for you,” she said, “but they know their shit, so there’s only a few suspects. You eat until you’re full, kid. Then you get some exercise with me, or reading with Davenport.”

That... sounded like his usual plan for the day. The only difference was that he wasn’t alone any more. He always had someone nearby to remind him of the passage of time. Even the three men he most admired.

They weren’t just monitoring him. They were spending time  _with_  him. Which was, when he got down to realising that, the most important part.


	41. Nonny Request #34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Angus and Agatha are on a case. while Agatha is at the office (not at home) there's an explosion..of fear. it's been too long for Agatha to be gone, so Ango and taako and Kravitz find the work place and everyone is running around scared of some THING. the grounding exercise doesn't work for anyone (including Agatha) the idea is someone cast a fear spell, so they could get in and hide whatever evidence they had found, if it's cool to request. Thank you so much either way!

They split up their talents. Angus could find just about anything with the right sources via periodicals. Agatha had the charisma to get most people to trust her with information that they would not impart to anyone else. As an information-gathering team, they were almost unstoppable.

Almost.

On the trail of one of the viler abductors in Ranadto City, they had some clues, but not enough for a definite plan of action. They definitely had some evidence, but they needed the right spellcasters to divine anything out of it.

Angus was back on the trail with the periodicals, coming up with several possible leads. With those winding up with small mentions of things that  _could_  be evidence on Agatha’s side of things. He brought out his Stone of Farspeech and tuned it to Agatha’s frequency.

She didn’t answer. Not the first call. Not the second call. By the third call, Angus got worried. The Bureau of Benevolence bracers had a tracking spell that Angus only used for dire emergencies. Missing the third call only qualified for a map trace, giving an agent’s rough location on any given map.

Agatha’s trace pointer was jinking around her last known location like a flea on a hotplate. If she was running and fighting, she might need his help. Though, knowing her, she would likely help him for the cleaning up, afterwards.

...but why was there a fight happening at the Investigations Office?

It wasn’t far, but when he got there, the entire building was in chaos. All the BOB people were screaming and running hither and yon. Running into rooms with one exit, and then attempting to climb sheer walls. People were wriggling out of windows and then screaming because they were now up above the ground. Even when they were on the ground floor.

Something was major league fucked up.

Angus sent a quick message to the moon base for some top class mages to unfuck things at the earliest convenience. In the meantime, he had to find his wife.

She was in the Files room, which had a relatively confounding labyrinth of filing cabinets. He could hear her clattering around within, attempting to quiet her rapid breaths and rolling ones. The edges of her hushed shrieks tore at his heart.

“Agatha... Agatha, it’s Angus. I’m here for you.”

Even under a spell where she was terrified of nothing, she ran into his arm.

“Deep breaths, babe. Deeep breaths. It’s going to be okay.”

“They’re coming. They’re coming to get me. We have to run. We have to hide.”

“Not any more,” he said. There was nobody here but BOB personnel. “They’re gone. They’re gone, now, babe. Come on. You tell me five things you see, okay?”

She pushed at him, urged him to hide in the filing labyrinth. “They’re  _coming..._  I can see them in every shadow. We have to run. We have to...”

“What do they look like?”

“Dark. Dark shadows. They’re coming. They’re everywhere.”

This had to be some kind of hallucinatory curse. Everyone here was completely terrified beyond reason. He didn’t want to use his magic against her, but... if she kept running at this level of terror, she would run to exhaustion.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he cooed. “I’m gonna cast Sleep on you so that we can sort this all out. You’re going to be safe, I promise.”

She was shaking in his arms. “Keep them away from me?”

“Of course.” He cast Sleep at the highest level he had, getting everyone else in the immediate area. Upstairs and downstairs. It took four such spells and some added Featherfalls for the poor souls at the windows to get the entire Investigations Office laid out in the emergency bunk racks. Gently tethered down in case they woke up in the same state they went under.

It took every atom of control he had to leave his lovely wife in her nebulous state of distress. It was harder than leaving the rest of his coworkers in a similar state a mages, clerics, and other investigators flooded into the scene.

He didn’t know he was crying until Taako stopped to help mop his face. “Ease up, boychick. We’re sorting this thing out as lickety-fucking-split as we can.”

“I couldn’t help her. I couldn’t reach her...”

“Happens, sometimes. You can’t fix everything. You did good with what you had. That’s the important part. Sometimes, ya gotta let smarter people deal with things. That’s happening now.”

Taako used to be taller than him. Now Angus could rest the Elf’s head against his chest as his adopted Dad had once done for him. He clung to Taako and sobbed into his hat.

“Easy, there, kiddo. Easy. This ain’t permanent. We ain’t stuck.”

So hard to believe it, right at that moment.

“Yeah, all they had to do was find the enspelled artifact and fucking smash it,” said Agatha. “We’re fine, you big baby.”

He was never happier to scoop up his family in his arms. Taako in one and Agatha in the other. Though he only had kisses for Agatha. She was a little wet-eyed herself, eager to give as well as receive.

“Put me down, damnit,” Taako complained. “You’re ruining my brand.”

Agatha caught her breath as Angus put them down. “I think they took something. I was trying to fight them in the files when the curse hit.”

Adopted father and son had an identical reaction, “Well, fuck.”

However, Angus knew that criminals only destroyed evidence that would work against them. “We need to identify what’s missing. That’s the thing that would have definitely identified them.”

Like all bad guys who attempted to obscure their path, they actually made an arrow pointing right to them.

Angus was going to  _fuck_  them  _up._  Big time. Him and everyone else in the Bureau who loved Agatha.


	42. Nonny Request #35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> How about some classic babification? Your choice who has to deal with who, how this happened, etc.
> 
> [AN: Did someone say Terrible Elf Larvae?]

So far, today had been absolute shit for Angus McDonald. Everything that could go wrong, had. Including rain with the distinct absence of an umbrella, a miscommunication in schedules, a hormone rush from being a teenager, ripping his pants in front of someone awesome, and tripping over his tongue in the vicinity of a cute girl.

Next, the famous Twins were taking turns in suggesting how he could improve his life with just a few cautionary measures and Angus had flashbacks to his micro-managing, nit-picking gene donors allegedly calling themselves his parents.

There had been a huge row. A knock-down, drag-out screaming match where all three sides were yelling, “You don’t know what it’s like,” at each other. With increasing volume and differing emphasis between iterations.

Angus, clutching his wand so he didn’t make or throw fists, yelled, “I WISH YOU DID!” And accidentally cast Wish on himself.

There was a bright flash of light. A thunderclap of sound that knocked Angus flat on his back and caused the household cats to scatter into assorted nooks and crannies. When he stood back up, neither Taako nor Lup were anywhere in sight.

They could have easily cast Blink or otherwise run off to hide and play a goof on him, as was their wont. Angus wasn’t in a mood to take any of that horseshit. “Very funny, sir, ma’am,” he growled. “I am  _not_  in the mood, okay?”

Silence there, and nothing more. Well. A soft, shuffling noise from the other side of the kitchen countertop. A coo. A murmur.

Angus toured around the counter and found the Twins. Two years old at the most. Naked, because their grown self’s clothing did not fit tiny Elf babies. Huddled up and holding each other and close to tears.

One look at Angus’ pissed-off face was enough to set them wailing.

“Oh, shit,” he muttered. His heart fell as he realised exactly what had happened. “Oh... shit...”

Now he had tiny Elf larvae to look after until such time as the spell wore out or reversed somehow.

How. The  _fuck._  Was he going to explain this to Kravitz or Barry?

“Oooh shiiiiiit...”

What did tiny baby Elves like to eat? Were they still suckling at this age? Angus suddenly realised that he didn’t know.

“Oh, shi-hi-hi-hiiit...” Angus started to cry. This was the absolute last thing he needed on the shittiest day of his life and the final straw tipped him into tears. He fell to his knees and curled up in a ball and just... wailed... about his misfortunes.

He was only dimly aware of the twins’ babbling to each other. Not babbling. The proto-version of their own language. At least they weren’t crying any more.

Angus fought to recover himself, but today had been literally the worst. He looked the baby version of Lup in her mismatched eyes and whispered, “I’m so sorry...”

The baby version of Taako was cringing a little and sort-of hiding behind baby Lup, and sucking his thumb.

“I’m really sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“Aaaw,” cooed baby Lup. “Aaaaawww...” and patted his arm.

Bad day or not, these baby versions of his guardians and mentors needed him. He couldn’t cope with this alone, but he had to cope  _enough_  until someone could swing by and help out.

* * *

 

Fabricate had created some perfunctory children’s clothing out of Barry’s least favourite denim accessories, and some truly comfortable cotton sheets for their underthings. Taako’s cooking lessons had taught him how to make more than elementary food.

Creative use of furniture made a coffee table and some Fantasy Bean Bags made setting an eating area for them a work of inspired desperation.

A few Stone calls had people on their way to Casa de Taako to help out with more than just the basics.

Nothing on Faerun, alas, could make baby Taako eat his peas. Not butter. Not cheese. Not goopy sauce, which Taako had once claimed that babies loved. Not mooshing them up with the mashed potatoes. Not ketchup.

Nothing.

Not even pretending that the spoon was a dove wanting to come home to feed her babies. All the realistic cooing in the world couldn’t make baby Taako open his little baby Elf mouth.

Baby Lup thought this was hilarious. At least Angus could successfully sleight-of-hand some into her when she was openly guffawing at her brother.

Merle rushed in. “I got here as soon as I--” the scene greeted him. Twin baby Elves with more of their dinner on them than in them, Angus, also wearing a decent portion of their meal, making dove noises and sighing in exasperation as the baby flipwizard once again successfully evaded Angus’ feeding attack. There was only one way to react to that, and that was as if someone had cast Tasha’s Hideous Laughter on him.

“Oh my god,” he laughed. “Oh, help me, Pan... “ He was struck prone from the hilarity and had to punch the ground in fits of laughter.

Baby Taako thought  _that_  was hilarious, and Angus got in an attack of opportunity, getting some peas into his usually recalcitrant maw. Baby Taako looked like he’d been betrayed and then spat them with some velocity at Angus.

Baby Lup applauded, spraying pumpkin everywhere.

Angus surrendered. “I suppose you don’t have any suggestions on making baby Elves eat their vegetables, sir?”

Merle was still howling with hilarity, but he managed to sit up. Tears spilled from the corners of his eyes. “Fuck if I know how to make kids eat.” He finally rolled a will save to conquer his own giggles. “What’ve you tried?”

Angus ran through the list. Every sauce and flavour he could think of.

“So... not honey.”

Ah, fuck, he’d forgotten honey. Angus sighed and mage-handed the honey over, which he drizzled into the mess that was once a serving of peas.

Success!  _Finally._

It was exhausting enough just getting them to  _eat_  when they were  _hungry._  “You at least have parenting experience points, sir. What do they need?”

“Nyuh,” baby Taako said, flinging a handful of generic mess at Merle.

“I dunno about lots of shit,” said Merle, “but these little grubs need a  _bath.”_

Baby Taako shrieked in terror and started running as fast as his little legs could carry him. Good news, babies didn’t have much in the way of move points. Bad news, the little blighters were fucking agile as shit. Baby Lup was running around just for the sake of running around, laughing because she thought this was an immensely fun game of Chase.

Merle couldn’t do much but get in the twins’ way, which was not as effective as Angus would have liked. It took some superior dexterity and more than a few double dashes to capture the little shits.

If feeding tiny toddler Elves was messy business, bathing them was even worse. The twins  _did_  enjoy the bubbles, but they also enjoyed splashing each other, Angus, and every last inch of the bathroom, including the ceiling.

Angus was soaked, but Prestidigitation could at least make sure the towels were toasty and dry. He was more than a little out of practice with braiding their golden hair, and Merle at least was able to help with wrestling them into their bedclothes.

Once tucked into a cuddle cote, clean and dry and cozy, they looked deceptively innocent.

“I’m too old for this,” complained Merle.

_“I’m_  feeling too old for this,” sighed Angus. He was just about ready to collapse. “Who else is coming?”

“Well,” said Merle, “You’re going to have to explain this to their husbands.”

Ffffuuuuuuck...

* * *

 

“Near as I can figure, sirs, it was a misfire of Wish. I don’t know how to break it.” He had chosen to tell the story over the two tiny, slumbering forms. They even held hands in their sleep. At least with the twins sleeping right in front of them, there was no chance of anyone yelling at him.

Angus had had more than enough yelling for the day. He’d had more than enough yelling for a lifetime.

Kravitz sighed and said, “I’m not mad. I’m... disappointed.”

Ouch. That was even worse than the yelling. “This was an accident. I didn’t mean it. Not like this...”

“Nevertheless, it happened,” grumbled Barry. He settled himself in the cuddle cote where he would be within easy comforting range of baby Lup. Just like Kravitz had settled to be ready for anny of baby Taako’s needs. “Their names are Lulu and Koko, if they don’t remember being grownups.”

“I don’t think they do. Would there be any way to test it? They barely speak Elven...”

Kravitz shook his head. “I’m pretty sure that if they did remember adulthood, they’d be doing more to try and solve this puzzle.” He glanced at the sleeping baby Taako. “That’s assuming he isn’t enjoying this second childhood...”

Angus sank into the pillows with a hopeless groan. “Gods let this be over,” he whimpered. “Gods, let this be over soon...”

* * *

 

“Koko! Get outta that soup! Lulu! Don’t eat that soup![1]”

Childish giggling erupted from the kitchen where the soup was supposed to be cooling for long storage in the Fantasy Freezer. Koko had evidently decided that this was an interesting bath and Lulu wanted to see how her brother tasted as a garnish. How they had got up on the countertop was a mystery that Angus didn’t particularly care to solve.

His leading theory was that wherever the cats could go, the twins could climb. They were agile little shits, and seemingly adept at using random bits of furniture to get into things that they shouldn’t really get into.

Angus scooped Koko out of the soup, holding the dripping child version of his mentor. “Please tell me you didn’t pee in there?”

Giggling. That was neither a yes nor a no.

Lulu took a sip from the ladle. “Ur  _yuck!”_

Now Angus knew for sure. “You peed in it. Grub.” He didn’t think, just placed the filthy child down on the floor and tipped the ruined soup down the sink. “That’s it. I’m buying a gigantic crate of ramen and blaming you for my lack of nutrition.” He dumped the pot in the sink and scooped up Koko before he could run very far away. “You just earned yourself a bath, mister smarty-pants.”

Koko was kicking up a stink, more because Angus was taking him away from his sister than because he was getting a bath. Lulu stomped after him, yowling in protest because her brother was kicking up a stink.

“You can have a bath, too,” Angus said, “It’s just that mister messy, here, needs it more.” He was speaking Elven, the one language they had in common. On the plus side, he was getting more practice than ever in his Elven. On the minus side, he was too worn out for his normal studies.

Good thing the post-graduate program was understanding about this mess.

Lulu attempted to climb his leg and Angus scooped her up in his other arm. The twins were quieter when they were together, but when they were quieter that automatically meant that they were up to no good.

Even on the rare occasions when he found them napping in one of the cat’s cubbies, they were up to no good. They had a habit of finding shiny objects before they were lost and taking them into small hidey-holes. That wasn’t when they were busy looking for Angus’ stash of Sugar-Me-Do cereal.

Small Elves should  _never_  have processed sugar. One encounter was enough for Angus. It was also enough for the twins, and they now made it their lives’ mission to find it again and have more.

Prestidigitation took care of Koko’s dirtied clothes. A bath full of warm, soapy water took care of the twins. It also took care of his third outfit for the day.

“Honestly,” he said. “I’m only trying to keep you safe and well.” Angus scrubbed some congealed smear off of Koko’s leg. “I really understand how tough it can be. I understood like five days ago. Wish fucking granted...”

Once again, it didn’t work. The baby twins remained babies. Angus had cast Wish on himself, not them. He couldn’t cure it by Wishing them back to normal.

Clean, but not dry, Koko escaped the towel with a gleeful shriek and went running up the hall. Kravitz must be home.

“Hallo, bare bum boy,” Kravitz’s voice singsonged. “Escape again, did ya?”

Koko didn’t use his words, just made an incomprehensible squeak of glee. Lulu clambered out of the tub to join what she knew had to be the fun.

Angus was more or less forced to chase after the two of them with towels. Cursing all the way.

Kravitz had Koko wrapped up in his feathered cloak, held high in his arms. The child had his arms wrapped around the reaper and was grinning like he’d won a prize.

Lulu was wet and pouting that Barry wasn’t there for similar hugs. Angus scooped her up and started drying her off. “I guess he really likes you, sir.”

“Yeah,” Kravitz sighed. He turned his face towards Koko and said, “I love you too.” And he delivered a kiss to the baby wizard’s brow.

One thing about wishes... if they’re bad ones, they can be reversed with True Love’s Kiss.

There was another thunderclap, and another flash of light, another wave of energy that knocked Angus and Kravitz flat. Where there was once a toddler, there was now the adult Taako, looking rather stunned and clad only in his husband’s robe.

Lulu, still a baby and still in Angus’ arms, looked up at him in shock. “Wuh?”

“True love’s kiss,” crowed Taako. “Fuck yeah! Agnes, go put Lulu down for me.”

Lulu was close to tears. “Koko... Koko come back...”

Taako knelt down. “No, babe. I’m gonna bring you back,” and he kissed her on top of her head.

After yet another thunderclap and flash of light, Lup was using the towel as a rather ineffective shield for her modesty. “Wow,” she said. “Okay. Let’s never do that again, okay?”

“Hell fuck yeah,” Angus agreed. “I’m gonna never use the words I and wish in sequence ever again.”

He would wait a week before taunting Taako about peeing in the soup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Shut up, I had to. [For those of you who don’t get it, this is an adjusted Steam Powered Giraffe reference that you’d only get if you’ve seen David’s vines.]


	43. Nonny Request #36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Can we get a fix where Taako and Kravitz have a fight/disagreement and Angus freaks out? He probably hasn’t seen many positive relationships in his life and would think one small fight could become another Taako and Sazed abusive relationship. Thank you!!!!
> 
> [AN: Going with Young Ango because bigger angst potential]

Angus hid behind the doorway, breath stilled in his throat, tears prickling at his eyes. Mr Taako and Mr Kravitz were yelling at each other. It was happening. It was finally happening.

They were fighting.

They were fighting because Angus was in the house. Just like any of the other couples who had taken him in for the early cycle of home visits and inspections and the dance of eternal paperwork.

“It’s not babysitting, Krav. He’s  _our_  damn kid! Take some parental responsibility.”

“I am being responsible! I’m working for our keep!”

“I got the money sewed up, babe.”

“It’s not as if I can take time off whenever I feel like it! My Queen needs me!”

“Our  _baby_  needs you!”

“Stop calling him that! He’s not our baby!”

Angus felt every muscle in his body turn into a knot. Felt his panicked breath stop in his throat. He couldn’t breathe. He was going to die. He was going to die alone and nobody cared about him and Nurse Stronginthearm was going to scrub the meat off his bones for the orphanage stew...

“Oh fuck,” said Mr Taako. There was a clatter of his high heels against the polished floors, and then the smell of floral cologne and his warm presence nearby. “Sweetie...? Sweetie, it’s going to be okay, I promise.”

Angus, panicked, couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe in. Couldn’t feel anything but utter terror. They were going to break up. They were going to split apart because he was here to ruin their love and he was so sorry and he didn’t want to be stew...

“Oh shit,” said Mr Kravitz. He joined Mr Taako in holding Angus. “I didn’t mean to say-- What I meant is that you’re a little boy.” Mr Kravitz’s cool hand rubbed over Angus’ back. “You’re not a baby any more.”

The panic still had him in its clutches. He couldn’t breathe. Everything was going dark and he couldn’t breathe and he couldn’t move and the whole world hurt.

Mr Kravitz started to sing a lullabye as both Mr Taako and himself held Angus close. All the terror ebbed away under a gentle and soothing Calm Emotion. Mr Taako’s soft purr provided a non-magical counterpart. With calm, came sweet air. With calm, the knotted muscles eased. Tears fell. Sobs loosed, but that was just because they were held back for so long.

“I’m sorry,” said Mr Kravitz.

“...please don’t go bad,” Angus managed. “...please don’t break up... please don’t turn sour ‘cause of me...”

“Aw no, aawww...” cooed Mr Taako, rocking with Angus in his arms. “It’s just a little tiff, pumpkin... People have fights like this all the time. We got angry at each other, but it’s all over, now.”

Mr Kravitz said, “Taako was right. I do need to share more of my time with you. I need to figure out how to break up my work so that I can have more of a home life.” He moved closer. Wrapping Angus and Mr Taako up in his arms. “Sorry I panicked you.”

“Krav was right, too,” said Mr Taako. “He does important work and it can never wait. Also... you  _are_  a little kid. But... I can’t help thinking of you as my baby. I want you to be part of my life.”

Mr Kravitz whispered, “I’d love us all to be a family.”

Angus peeked. Mr Taako had tears slipping from his eyes. Mr Kravitz had moisture spilling from his own. They were both more concerned with Angus than they were about fighting.

A black feather fell from Mr Kravitz’s hair. Angus caught it. Mr Kravitz had never used feathers in his hair.

“I have to go,” said Mr Kravitz. He didn’t sound glad. “I want to come back as soon as I can.”

“I know, babe,” Mr Taako sighed. “Our boy’s gonna need extra hugs.”

“I’ll come back and read him a chapter of Caleb Cleveland. Soon as I can.”

“Don’t let Bird Mom keep you too long with the paperwork.”

Angus, still in Mr Taako’s arms, watched them kiss. They weren’t turning sour. They were okay.

Mr Taako carried Angus to the couch for an extended cuddle session. “Big upset today. Some people broke up when they realised childrearing isn’t alway sunshine and lollipops, right?”

Angus, curled up and halfway wrapped around Mr Taako, nodded.

Mr Taako’s bangles rang as he stroked Angus’ hair. “This is a fight every family has, sweetie. Who does more for the kid. Who does more for the household. Who’s more tired at the end of the day.” Mr Taako took a deep breath. “That sort’a thing broke up my parents. I admit, there was more than a bit of superstition stirred in... Not important. Too long ago. Today... Krav and I had that argument. It happened. We got loud. It don’t mean it’s the end of us. You got that, little man?”

Angus could believe it in the way they kissed. In the way they meant it when they apologised. In the way their touch lingered on each other.

Angus nodded. “I don’t want it to turn bad ‘cause of me.”

“Aw, honey...” Mr Taako started telling stories. Stories about all of his bad choices. About the people he had thought he had love with in the past. The liars, the deceivers, the poisoner who he had once trusted... The manipulators, the ransomers, the controllers... Mr Taako had seen every form of sour love that there was to exist. “So you see... I know what sour looks like.”

Angus sniffled and said, “Yessir...”

“So can you trust me when I tell you that Krav and I are not going sour any time soon?”

A shuddering, steadying breath. “Yessir.”

“Good,” Mr Taako kept stroking Angus’ hair. “Now the bad news. Dinner is a vegetable stir fry because I already cooked that. I can let’cha have a sweet tea to wash it down, though. Good?”

Angus nodded.

“Good.”

Mr Taako held him until the shuddering sadness was over, then let Angus up to have a late dinner and a soothing, sweet tea. By the time he was done, Mr Kravitz was back and hurrying to eat Mr Taako’s good food so he could have time to hold Angus and Mr Taako and read a story.

Angus didn’t make it all the way through the chapter. Falling asleep in someone’s arms was a nice feeling all the same.


	44. Nonny Request #37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> May I request just some Ango fawning over his pretty lovely wife? I think they are just so sweet together her fawning over him. I'm a romantic st heart and, ahh the sweetness. Thank you so much for reading this!

Soft warmth beside him. Cozy and safe and smelling of cheap, but never over-abundant perfume. Angus sleepily wrapped himself around his lovely wife and sniffed deeply as he squeezed.

Oh, what a beautiful morning.

Sunlight filtered through the curtains and cast her exposed skin in gold. Her face still lax in sleep. Perfectly calm and drooling a little on the pillow.

Ah, what a perfect view.

She had bed-head and her pyjamas were askew and there was no name for the sleeping position she wound up in other than Pure Agatha. Nobody else in the world could gain comfort from that awkward tangle mixed with sprawl.

Angus propped himself up on one elbow, forced to let her go in the process, but loving the angle he gained from the movement. The best investigative reporter in the world. The smartest and most competent woman he knew.

An amazing companion, a terrific helpmeet, smart and lovely and devoted to their teamwork. He could devote his life to loving every inch of her.

Agatha’s eyelids fluttered open. “Mmh... h’lo.”

The grin would not escape his face. “Hi,” he said, leaning over for their morning kiss. Monster-breath didn’t matter. That kiss was worth waiting for. When they broke it, he said, “Any requests for breakfast? I happen to know some five-star chefs who taught me everything I know about burning scrambled eggs.”

Her laugh was like a symphony. “Silly man.” She reached up to caress his cheek. “It’s a coffee and porridge morning for me.”

“Apples and cinnamon? Raisins? Cardamom?”

She stretched the kinks out before burying her nose in his chest hair for a good nuzzle. Agatha finished with a kiss and said, “Let’s wreck some porridge together. It’s been a while since we got your Papa all incensed.”

It was difficult to get up when she was just lounging there like that, but he had to pee anyway. “I think he may have finally forgiven me for burning the pasta that one time. Wonder if he’s forgiven you for being so beautiful that I couldn’t tear myself away...”

“Still your fault for dancing me off my feet,” she teased.

It was how their mutual cooking sessions had gone for months. Starting to prepare a meal and, through a succession of kisses and cuddles, making out and forgetting that the burners were still burning until the Fantasy Smoke Alarms went off.

Taako, one of the aforementioned five-star chefs, was highly offended by it all.

Basic nods to morning hygiene accomplished, they failed their stealth checks on the way to the kitchen by giggling and shushing each other as they tip-toed towards Taako’s sacred space.

Only to find him there already, in a chair by the old hearth where the Aga now resided. Knitting. Glaring at them as they entered. “You realise I’m only here to stop you setting the farmhouse on fire,” he said. “Whatever you start cooking, I’ll make certain you don’t fucking burn it.”

“I think he’s onto us,” Agatha stage-whispered.

“I think you’re right,” Angus stage-whispered back. He tried to wipe the grin off his face, but rolled a one. “Thanks, Papa.”

Taako rolled his eyes. “Warn me before you start the slow-dancing. I’m too young for this shit.”


	45. Nonny Request #38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Can you do one where Angus and Taako are training and Taako accidentally hits him with something?

Practice battles in the Icosagon had actually faded into being boring. They were safe. There was no risk. There was no desperation. There was nothing at stake. There were even healers hanging around on the bleachers in case the mock battles knocked anyone down. The only thing at risk was dignity.

Tres Horny Bois were sparring against Team Smarty-pants, Carey, Killian, and Angus McDonald. Both sides knew each others’ weaknesses. Both knew that if they were knocked down to zero hit-points, the clerics gathered on the bleachers would butt in and save valuable lives.

It was routine to the point where Taako was almost doing this in his sleep. He much preferred to get back to sleep, which was why he wanted this dumb exercise over with as soon as possible.

Entangle the Meat Shield, confound the Rogue, dazzle the Mage, cha-cha-cha... Magic Missile, Magic Missile, cha-cha-cha...

Angus cast shield. Lad was learning. Taako was nearly impressed.

Well. If he wanted to shake things up, Taako was game.

He dipped into his ingredients pouch and brought out a single, small, hot pepper. The only warning they would get. Then he cast Dragon Breath, aiming at Carey and Killian.

Angus McDonald, allegedly the worlds’ smartest person, leaped between the competent women and Taako and attempted to cast Shield.

He failed.

Taako watched his life fall to pieces all over again in slow motion.

Angus completed the parabolic arc to the floor of the arena as if he were falling through water. Flames licking at him  _like they had licked at his stage wagon in Glamour Springs._

_Some of the bodies were so small. Not as small as the one that was practically at his feet. Crumpled in pain like those who hadn’t eaten as much of the thirty-clove garlic chicken. Crying out like so many of those he had left behind in his panic._

Just like back then, when he had grabbed Sazed and harnessed the horse to their camper wagon, Taako ran. The whole world was slow as he flung the Umbrastaff away from him and started out of the arena. It felt like trying to run through an ocean of molasses. Like trying to breathe cotton.

He’d done it again. He’d done it again!  _He’d done it again!_

There was nowhere to run to, not on the moon.

He deserved this.

He deserved worse.

There was one way to run. Right off the gods-damn moon. He didn’t hear anything but the rushing of blood in his ears, and the painful drag of air through his throat. He could only see his goal - the edge of the moon base. The unprotected plateau that had been the doom of an uncounted number of dogs[1].

He didn’t stop. Let his feet cycle in thin air for a couple of steps. Then shut his eyes so that he wouldn’t be able to regret his decision.

He’d killed a kid who had no-one and nothing to the point where he hero-worshipped a murdering scuzzbucket like Taako. This death was earned and long since overdue.

Payment for Glamour Springs.

Payment for Angus.

Payment for everything else horrible that he’d done in his entire life.

{fomp!} the wind stopped thundering in his ears and something yanked at his left arm.

Taako’s eyes opened. That fucking umbrella  _did_  actually follow him. He glared at it through a veil of tears. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” he demanded. “I killed a  _kid._  I deserve to die...”

The Umbrastaff, as always, was silent.

“I hate you, you accessory from Hell.” So now he was going to live. Fuck. Worse, they could track him because of the fucking silver bracer that his Umbrastaff had a good grip on.

Options. He was going to live because the Umbrastaff wouldn’t let him die. He could cut off his left hand, lose the bracer, and just fucking run. Except he was allergic to pain, so that should be a last resort only.

There were places he could hide where the signal from the Bracer was interrupted There had to be thousands of caverns in The Teeth. He could farm mushrooms and cave slugs and be a cave hobo.

Better than a murder hobo.

A figure appeared before him. Fancy lad. shiny shoes. The feathers in his fancy lad cap were less by one. He had his arms folded and an expression of deep confusion. “Pardon my language, sir, but what the fuck?”

“Great. Now I’m hallucinating,” said Taako.

“No, sir. I’m guaranteed one hundred percent alive. Mr Highchurch was actually handy with a healing spell, sir.”

“Now I  _know_  I’m hallucinating...” he rolled his eyes. “The day Merle actually heals anyone is the day the world ends.”

“No, sir. Mr Burnsides reminded him that he  _can_  heal and I was fine in the jiffiest of jiffies. But you’d already run off by then.”

Taako reached out with the hand that wasn’t caught up in the grip of a malevolent accessory. Poked Angus.

Kid felt alive enough.

“Are you good, now, sir?”

Taako shrugged, “Well, I’m not as evil as I previously assumed, I guess... Sure you’re not dead?”

“Absolutely, sir.”

They were both featherfalling to the middle of nowhere. Since the moon was closer, it was worth burning a spell slot on. “All right. Improv magic lesson. Come on over to me. I’ll show you what Fly looks like.”

The Umbrastaff was on his side as they soared up to settle on the relative firmness of the Bureau quad. Where Magnus and Merle were waiting with the same question Angus had.

“What the  _fuck?”_

Taako lied like a rug. “Have no fear, gentle co-workers, Taako’s saved the day, the boy, and imparted a valuable lesson.” He denied ever jumping off the moon in the first place, blew so much smoke up everyone’s assed that they gave up on trying to ask Taako anything.

Eventually, they all filtered away, leaving just him and the kid in the middle of the quad.

“Sir,” said Angus. “I heard you say,  _not again.”_  He had his notebook and pencil out, raking notes. “What sort of thing could have you panicked like that?”

“Prefer not to answer,” said Taako. “We’re alive today. Be glad of that.” He shut down, turned off, and Blinked the fuck out of there.

Nobody needed to know this shit. If that kid asked any more questions, Taako might actually answer him, one day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] For those of you who are worried - that number is zero. Actually, Davenport and Lucretia are allergic, so they don’t let dogs on the moon.


	46. Reader Request #4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FifiMae asked:
> 
> If I could request some Baby Ango Angst, Kravitz gets home mad after a bad day at work and Angus is scared he'll take it out on him.

Angus knew every single way that people could be angry. Angry people could be loud, they could be quiet, they could cuss a blue streak, or they could be stony-faced. There was always a look. There was always that certain something. Call it an aura, call it a sixth sense. Angus had seen every single way people could be angry, and it always ended in his own pain. Fore every slammed door, thrown object, and heavy footfall, a hand had flown his way.

So when a Reaper came through a tear in reality with his jaw set firm and that look on his otherwise handsome features, Angus braced himself. Instantly curling into a ball and waiting for the inevitable blows to stop.

"Queen _damn_ them all to the deepest hells!"

Angus flinched in place. Tried not to make a sound. It'd happen anyway. It always happened anyway.

"I hate them, I hate them, I _hate_ them _so_ much!" The hat-stand wobbled as Mr Kravitz flung his cloak at it.

Angus tensed. When was it going to happen?

"Bad enough they have to mess with the natural order, but _children? Babies?"_

Mr Taako said, "Krav..." in the softest and gentlest tone.

"If I could find them before they started, I'd--"

Silence was the worst. Silence and waiting and holding his breath and waiting and just wanting to be over and waiting and praying it would never start and _waiting..._

The first touch, that of a soft and careful caress, set Angus to screaming.

There were no harsh blows. Not with an open hand, nor a fist, nor any kind of object. Just a gentle, slightly cold hand, repeatedly caressing him until Angus realised that no such thing was going to happen at all.

_It could still be a bait and switch. One had done that. And Nurse Coxsackie said they had gone to the gallows for it..._ Angus started sobbing because he didn't want Mr Taako or Mr Kravitz to go to the gallows.

"I'm sorry, Angus," cooed Mr Kravitz. "I didn't mean to scare you like that. It's okay? Do you want a hug?"

Mr Taako was nearby. "If you want a place to hide in, there's a small cote the cats usually nest in," he offered. "Just right for one kid and the grownup of choice." His hands were warmer, and always smelled of flowers and whatever he had been cooking most recently. He'd done another batch of his fortifying cupcakes. "That is, if you want company."

Angus quickly wiped his eyes and risked a peek. They weren't angry any more. Not Mr Kravitz, and Mr Taako hardly ever got angry. Their faces were worried. Concerned. He risked a cautious uncurl and the trembling words, "...ango sammich?" He only relaxed when he was scooped up between two parental bodies, four arms wrapped around him. Mr Taako's soft, reassuring purrs on one side and Mr Kravitz's gentle hum on the other.

"I was mad about something at work," said Mr Kravitz. "So I was letting all that anger out with my words, Angus."

Mr Taako said, "It's okay to get angry about things. It's never okay to take that anger out on anything or anyone that doesn't deserve it."

Mr Kravitz added, "I'd never do that. Never to a child. Never to anyone."

It felt right. It felt good. It felt _real._ Angus leaned into the hug. This was only his third weekly stay-over, and he could maybe begin to believe that this was going to _stay_ real. The few tears that got loose now were happy ones.


	47. Reader Prompt #5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FifiMae asked:
> 
> How 'bout Young Angus Verse with a dash of Autistic!Angus, Taako notices his boy hasn't been stiming much lately and has to resist the urge to murder someone at a PTA meeting when he finds out some of the teachers have been using "Quiet Hands".

"Listen," said Taako. "I'm concerned that something at school might be bothering my ba--" he corrected himself a tiny bit too late, "Angus. He's been... I don't wanna say 'depresed' because he's fine after an hour when he gets home? But... during that hour? I guess the word might be... repressed."

The teachers, still in awe that one of the Seven Birds had manifested in their meetings, all stared. Finally, the spokestutor cleared a throat and said, "How do you mean, 'repressed'."

"It might not be the correct term," Taako said, holding Angus close. His boy was quiet in body and voice, here. "He doesn't express himself as freely as he does normally. I don't get to see his happy hands so much. It's worrying. Is someone picking on him at school? In the playground?"

Light dawned behind five pairs of eyes. The spokestutor smiled as if Taako had said something embarrassing. "Oh, we prefer Quiet Hands, here."

After an announcement like that, thunder should have clapped and lightning should have lit the sky. Alas, it was a bright, clear, sunny day. As it was, Taako's mismatched eyes narrowed dangerously. "You really think limiting a child's expression is the way to go, here? What next? Dictating how they dress? Oh. Wait. You already did that," Taako dipped into his bag and brought out some stapled-together papers. "Care to explain to me why the girls get two pages on what not to wear and the boys get two sentences?"

"We're trying to provide a supportive learning environment here," said the spokestutor.

"And you're doing this by restricting kids' methods of expression?"

One of the other teachers spoke. "Some of the young ladies have no idea how revealing their clothing choices are. They're distracting to the boys."

 _Only the hetero ones, maybe,_ thought Taako. Out loud, he said, "Ango? Have any of the girls been distracting?"

Angus shook his head.

"Heard anyone else complain about being distracted?"

Another head-shake.

Taako faced the array of teachers. "Who's been complaining?"

"Er," said the spokestutor. "Lots of people?"

"Like...?" prompted Taako. "Cut the horseshit. I know it's the male teachers. It's almost always the male teachers. Who can't handle a child dressing for the heat, huh? Maybe you should step outta the kitchen if you're so _distracted."_

Some looked away. One blushed. A hit, a palpable hit. "Back to the 'quiet hands' issue," Taako breezed. "Does Angus hurt anyone when he stims?"

"He hasn't done it yet," allowed the spokestutor. "We're simply trying to prevent a potential incident."

"I know fucking well that my boy doesn't stim any further than an inch from his tiny, tiny body," snarled Taako. "How could that _possibly_ lead to an incident?"

"He could knock something over..."

"The other children could see and mock--"

Taako cut that one off with, "So how's that anti-bullying policy that you sold us on doing?"

Only now did they realise that they were sinking, and all their efforts were just digging them deeper. Their faces were falling further and faster than their hopes of a contribution and endorsement from one of the Seven Birds.

"So. You don't understand Autism and Autistic expression. You repress his happy hands and damage his expressive freedom. You can't enforce the anti-bullying policy that you were so eager to sell to my husband, and an even half of the male teachers can't keep their eyes off of -shall we say- green apples?"

"That's a rather unfair way of putting it," mumbled the spokestutor.

"It's a rather blunt way of putting it," said Taako. "I don't have a single reason to keep my boy in your school, and I _certainly_ don't have any reason to keep quiet about it."

Now they were realising how deep they were in the shit. "There's no need--"

"Our reputation will be ruined!"

"Please, think about the other children who attend..."

"I _am,"_ said Taako. "I'm thinking about every kid who's punished for stimming. I'm thinking about every kid who has some skanky-ass grownups' leering eyes on them in class or out. I'm thinking about every child who has no safety to turn to when some asshole decides to give them a pile of shit for existing. I'm thinking about every kid who has to go through this hellhole believing that this is all somehow _okay."_ They all flinched at that word. "I already rescued Angus from one controlling pit of despair. He doesn't need a second one calling itself an educational establishment."

"Think of the future," they pleaded. "When Angus gets out into the real world--"

"He's already in the real world," snapped Taako. "It's a lot kinder than you pack of numbskulls." Angus had crawled into his lap and Taako said, "It's okay, pumpkin. You don't have to come back here again. We're going to find a better school than this one. I promise." Without a further word to the teachers, Taako stood with his boy in his arms, cut the teachers dead, and strode out of the place.

The next school, he was going to make certain they interviewed a truly random selection of students.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr TAZ prompts remaining: 6


	48. Nonny Request #39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Can you please a thing where Taako gets frustrated at Angus and throws his hands up, and Angus flinches?

Baking Day was an even mix of fun, mess, and a modicum of frustration. Angus thought he was getting the hang of it and Taako was stress-testing his last nerves in watching an amateur take twenty minutes to do what a pro could do in seconds.

He had to keep casting back to when he was an amateur bumbling along under the guidance of Aunty Ques. How she had put up with these levels of horseshit. In doing so, he missed Angus just tossing the measured flour into the whipped egg whites.

“Sift it fir--” too late. “Augh!” His hands went up, bracelets jangling, to grip at his hat.

Ango went down, ducking and covering for a split second before realising that no incoming blows were going to happen.

In that time, Taako had lowered his hands and had to roll a save to stop feeling like the scum of the universe. He said, “Who hit you?”

“Nobody recently, sir. Everyone up here on the moon treats me really well.”

Taako fought for calm. “That wasn’t the question I asked, pumpkin. Someone had to hit you a lot for that kind’a reflex. Don’t matter if they’re not on the moon...”

Angus couldn’t look him in the eye. “My parents never hit me, sir.”

“So it was tutors they paid for? Nice,” he dripped sarcasm with that last word. “Or was it some shitty boarding school for fancy boys?”

“...they were s’posed to,” Angus murmured. “Discipline’s very important...”

“Horseshit.”

“Sir?”

“Horse. Shit. There’s hundreds of ways to get kids to act nice and beating on ‘em is one o’ the worst. I never knew the feel of someone else’s hand until I was out on the road and far from home ‘n’ family.” He had his centre, now, and used his new-found calm to gently pat Angus’ hair. “You know I’d never hurt you, right?”

“There was that time you threw me off a train, sir...”

“Better than letting you stay on it,” said Taako. “Anyway, I cast Shield. You were fine.” He’d never admit it, but he also believed he’d never see this kid again. Now that he was a coworker... Damnit. He added, “Sorry.”

Angus looked stunned. “Did you... just apologise to me?”

“Don’t brag about it,” said Taako. “You were due. Make a big thing out of this and you might not hear any more. Got it?”

“No, I understand, sir. I just... nobody’s ever done that before.”

Shit. Now he felt worse. “That’ll change,” said Taako, inwardly vowing to  _make_  it change. “Get used to it.”


	49. Nonny Request #40

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Agatha and Angus are out to dinner when her first luumee hits ( nurture mode over her husband/boyfriend, maybe he's had a rough week). The biggest hint is her dreamily sighing/cooing "mate" at him rather than his name. If I could request that please. Thanks for reading! :)

The restaurant was the best thing to happen to him during possibly the worst month of his life. Most of that was because Agatha was in the restaurant with him. Radiant with her own, unique glow that had been subtly blooming over the most recent days.

He was down on hit points, he’d had to run some constitution saving throws, and was generally feeling like shit. But it was all fine now because he’d seen Agatha. She smiled in that slow and certain way that made his heart swell.

Sure, she’d mentally attached a small label to his person that said  _This person is mine,_  at least to her eyes, but Angus didn’t mind so much.

They were young - well, young for half-elves - and in love.

He more or less fell into the booth that he had booked a month ago.

“You look like shit,” she teased.

“Drug gang in the lower west side. Nasty lot. Had the wrong type of necromancer.” He smiled for her, now, because he didn’t feel any pain now that he was near her. “I’m better now,” he said.

She leaned into him and sniffed deeply. Her soft purr was music to his ears. “Hmmmm,” she sighed. “Poor mate.”

Agatha smelled really nice. Angus kissed her hair and let himself relax for a change. She was gently stroking her fingers near his minor wounds. Careful of them. Her purr was rather steady, even when her hands drifted around his wrist.

“Skinny mate...”

_Uh oh..._

Angus felt her pulse. Elevated. Her pupils were dilated and her face was flushed. “Food?” she said. “Need feed mate.”

Three seconds after this very damning statement, her own personal luume-alarm went off. A tinny rendition of  _Love World of Love._

“Miller labs has  _got_  to work on a better detection spell,” Angus muttered. He ordered a combination of dense protein and different types of carbs, discreetly indicating that Agatha was under the influence of luume’irma.

She was in nurture mode, thanks to his generally poor condition, so there wouldn’t be an unseemly display in a classy restaurant where she attempted to jump his bones. Therefore, he would be feeding her as she fed him.

All in all, not the worst possible first luume ever. That record would have to go to Taako, who went on a touch-starved rampage through the college campus he was living in at the time. It had taken five security guards and some primo tranquillisers to get him to a manageable state.

By comparison, Agatha was a famished kitten. As long as the PDA’s stayed PG, he’d be fine. There was a relatively nice Elven Cote-l nearby. He could snuggle with her and any extra treats and, if she got rowdy, he knew where the ‘off switch’ was.

If there was a plus side to all of this, he knew that she viewed him as a mate. Or at least, subconsciously did so. Personally, he’d much prefer it when she had more choice in the matter.

Her eyes twinkled as he fed her. He sort-of flirted with her as she fed him. Not the most romantic of evenings, like he’d planned it to be, but this was a close second.

Agatha would later state in their wedding vows that his gentlemanly behaviour on this night was one of her strongest reasons for wanting to keep him.


	50. Nonny Request #41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Prompt: Angus gets hurt and Magnus teaches him the basics of patching yourself up and why it’s important to defend yourself for the sake of others. Love your work!

The sparring match stopped when Angus landed badly. Everyone in the Icosagon froze. Clerics in the room looked to each other.

“Not it,” said Merle.

Taako rolled his eyes as he put his Umbrastaff down. “You okay there, pumpkin?” Not that he overtly cared or anything, but the kid was kind’a the whole moon’s mascot at this point and he would lose major social points if he didn’t at least pretend.

Sure. He could tell himself that one.

“It just stings, sir.” Angus McDonald propped himself up at first, then moved into a seated position so he could inspect his injuries. As he brushed the dust off, blood started to flow.

“Oh golly... Who’s got Cure Wounds?”

Now the Clerics were looking at each other with worried expressions.

“Aw fuuuuck...”

“No, it’s okay,” Magnus Burnsides rushed in. He picked Angus up and carried him over to the benches. “Y’all got any first aid kits?”

_Now_  the assembled Clerics could provide. Taako tutted and sighed. Trust a Cleric to run out of spell slots early on in the day. He hovered and watched, pretending that he was feigning an interest for the benefit of anyone watching.

“That’s some primo gravel rash, kiddo,” Magnus said, using a cloth to dab at the wounds, cleaning them.

Angus hissed.

“Yeah, this antiseptic almost always stings. You can get some that don’t? But not in your standard medicine kit.” He had an apologetic smile. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay,” Angus managed through gritted teeth. “I’ve had this sort of thing done before, sir.”

Taako subdued a rising ire against anyone who’d made this boy suffer on purpose. This was probably some kind of fucked-up normal for little Ango. Poor kid. Taako had to find a way to make the kid wake up to that fact. Just... not today.

“This is swabbing. It helps keep the blood from dripping just about anywhere,” said Magnus. “These kits come with a pair of scissors so you can cut it to size. Good rule of thumb is to measure the injury with your hands and cut a finger’s width wider. Lay it on gently, don’t press it in...”

“Uhuh,” said Angus. “This seems almost deceptively easy now that you’re explaining it.”

“What? Clever clogs like you didn’t gain a proficiency in medicine?” said Taako, teasing him. Which gave him an excuse to hang around and be certain that the kid was going to be okay.

“Contrary to popular belief, I don’t know everything about everything, sir.”

“These are the bandages,” continued Magnus. “You want them firm enough to stay on, but not tight enough to cut off your circulation. Leave an end loose at the start, wind one way, wind the other, I like to do that twice before tying off. Nice and snug?”

“Yessir.”

“Always check the extremities to make sure they’re not turning red. That’s a sign that it’s too tight. Also watch out for swelling, pins and needles, and a loss of sensation. That means you gotta re-wind it. Got all that?”

“Yes, sir! I need a minute or two to make some notes on all this.”

Taako coughed his way around the word, “Nerd.”

Magnus glared at him. “Now, you have to un-wrap it tomorrow, clean any yuck outta there, and rebandage it if you can’t find any useful Clerics.”

“Useful Cleric is an oxymoron,” muttered Taako.

“And rest that leg for a while, okay?”

“Yeesh. Just admit you wanna adopt him, why don’cha,” sniped Taako. “Kid’s not  _that_  dumb or fragile.” That was the closest thing Ango was going to get to a compliment today. Or at least, until he learned Taako’s Magic Lesson number four - Avoid Getting Hit.


	51. Reader Prompt #6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dualityandsuch said:  
> Please give me a sweet fluffy fic where Angus has a good day and plays Minecraft or something with the other idiots because your previous few stories fill me with angst (and I love it)
> 
> [AN: This is resulting from a private chat where we speculated about Ango’s gaming habits. Sweet fluffy Young Ango fic ahoy]

Sky. The sun was a square, and so was the moon, far below. Taako blinked, and the world was made of cubes that were seemingly made of smaller squares. Standing across from him was a humanoid figure made out of squares and rectangular prisms, that only vaguely looked like his little Angel. Except they were the same height.

The mountains were made of cubes. The trees were made of cubes. Even the animals were blocky. The plants were... weirdly flat.

“Sweetie?” said Taako. “What the fuck?”

“This is Fantasy Minecraft, sir. A virtual experience in a tetrahedral world.”

“Explain that to me again like I’m a kid your actual age, please?”

Ango giggled. “Everything’s made of blocks, Papa. We get materials, make things with them, and build stuff.”

Taako felt vaguely disappointed. “That’s it?”

Another blocky humanoid figure popped in. All black, with a skull instead of a face. Well. A skull made of squares. They stood very still for a moment and then looked around. “What... is this?” said Krav’s voice.

“Hi, babe,” cooed Taako. “World’s made of cubes. Can you dig it?”

“We’ll be doing a lot of digging, Papa,” said Ango. “But first, let’s go over the controls.”

It was a very educational handful of hours, in which Taako and Krav learned how to punch trees, make certain tools, then use those tools to break and gather other blocks.

Krav, a few millennia older than anyone else, repeatedly failed to understand anything. “Why’s my scythe called a ‘hoe’?”

“It  _is_  a hoe, sir. Use it on the ground to make ploughed ground.”

“It just turned back into dirt!”

“That’s because you have to plough within four blocks of water, sir.”

“It’s not working, love...”

“Da-a-a-ad... you’re trying to plough  _sand!”_

Taako, meanwhile, had discovered that he could knock down grass, and was in the process of discovering that the blocky chickens wanted the seeds in his hand. “Someone get these fucking ducks away from me!”

Krav gave up on trying to plough the sand and attempted to reap some chickens. “I’ll save you, my Dove.”

“Papa... Da-a-ad... It’s okay. Chickens are harmless.”

There was some raucous squawking, puffs of smoke, and scattered chicken meat and feathers. 

“Your toime ‘as come, miscreants,” said Krav. “Oi. Where’d me scythe go?”

Ango could have helped. Theoretically. He was far too busy laughing his little seven-year-old lungs out. “Oh my gosh,” he kept repeating.

They would later learn that they were lucky they were playing on Peaceful.


	52. Nonny Request #42

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Could you please write another variant on Taako adopting Ango during Lumme?
> 
> [AN: (Looks at the two I’ve already written and the one I have planned) (sweats)]

Angus was born close to the day that Lucretia betrayed them. She had planned everything to the last detail. What she had not planned for was a certain Elf’s erratic and unpredictable cycle coming into play.

_Fuck._

Lup was gone. She had to be gone, or she’d have found a way to come back to the Starblaster. She and Taako were so hard in sync that this really shouldn’t have happened, and yet... there he was. Temperature rising. Metabolism ramping up to ‘high’. Resistance to the voidfish’s slumber-spell as his memories rewrote themselves? Rising.

He started moving. Sniffing the air. Grunting and murmuring half-formed syllables when he wasn’t subtly whimpering in pain and loss. His hands attempted to reach out for someone or something.

She didn’t have much time.

Lucretia more or less dumped Taako in the Stage Coach without any kind of care or ceremony. Somewhere nearby, someone had to have left an unwanted child somewhere. It was an adjustment of Locate Creature and Locate Person that worked with the vaguest of descriptions. In this case, “new, unwanted baby.”

It didn’t take long to find one. A small bundle in a basket left on the steps of a trade house. Asleep and not alerting anyone to their presence. She burned all her slots on Expeditious Retreat, just to get this kid to Taako before he happened to anybody else.

After that, it was a simple matter of depositing the basket at the door and gently, carefully sliding it closer to Taako. An Elf undergoing Luume’irma  _and_  recovering from a voidfish mind-wipe.

Whatever divinity knew and controlled all the multiverse? They were the only ones that would know what this was doing to Taako’s brain.

* * *

 

_Ten Years Later..._

The inn where Barry Bluejeans was resting up was on fire. There should have been only one person stupid enough to run into an inn that was on fire. Especially an inn on fire that contained an angry Dwarf who was also on fire.

There were actually two.

“MY BABY!”

In a so-far uncharacteristic display of courage and thoughtlessness, Taako... rushed in. Ahead of Magnus. Ahead of everyone who had the slightest fragment of doubt.

“Taako!” Magnus called, but even he could not brave the flames. People were screaming and running for safety. Animals were stampeding the heck out of there.

They could hear Taako shrieking for his baby... and a small, piping voice calling for their Papa. Then Taako burst out of an upper floor window, holding something in both arms.

Magnus rolled a crit to catch them. He had a slightly singed Elven wizard in his arms, who had a smoke-stained small boy in  _his._  A small boy of ten who looked nothing like Taako. The child was darker, and most definitely not Elven.

It was the ears. They were a dead giveaway.

“Taako?” said Magnus. “When did you get a kid?”

“Maybe we should get the fuck outta here first,” Taako pointed to the inn that was getting increasingly on fire. “That’s more’n we can handle.”

“Point,” Magnus acknowledged, and began to rush off after Killian for the well.

* * *

 

_Gods... they got old,_  Lucretia thought. They were so much older, now, than they had ever been in the century they’d been running. Taako was the only one who showed it less, but there was still an alarming change.

Taako, once a clothes horse, had apparently been wearing that one outfit until it had begun wearing out, then subsequently patching it or darning it where necessary. Peeking out from behind his hip was the reason for the frugality and, come to think of it, the alarming weight loss from the plushly upholstered twins that she was used to seeing.

Luume’irma could do interesting things to a life. This little boy  _had_  to be the baby she had unceremoniously scooped from a Smithy’s doorstop. Three miles away from Mudwater Hollow.

His life would be so very, very different if Taako hadn’t had one of his episodes right there and then. She had changed his entire life with one, split-second decision.

The boy wore glasses, and his dark eyes jinked about, glancing at everything as if taking notes. His clothing was neat and clean, but not brand new. Something had happened to the good life Lucretia had hoped to give Taako. He should never have had a reason to start adventuring.

Yet... here he was. With a child. With a Relic and a magical artefact in his possession. Both of which, his sister had made. He’d found her. Judging by the look on his face, he had no clue that he had done so.

She had to make certain that they made it. No more families, eaten by the Hunger. No more black terror, consuming reality. No more running. No more hiding. No more of this endless war.

They couldn’t be allowed to know who they once were. They weren’t ready. None of them could know, not even the sharp-eyed child who had his eyes ticking over every clue he could see.

Lucky that she had had ten years to refine her deception skills. Even though she had to do this, she hated herself. “Welcome, the four of you, to the Bureau of Balance...”


	53. Nonny Request #43

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> ( part 2 of 2) could I ask for a fic dealing with being overly stimulated and luume featuring luume Agatha or Angus ( them helping one another or Taako helping, or our resident Bone daddy Kravitz?) Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> [AN: I did kind’a promise that all these prompted fics would be PG, so...]

There were few things that Kravitz genuinely hated. Hate was a strong word, especially for a man who had once been a Bard in love with the world and in love with love. For centuries, the only one on his list had been the kinds of cults who sacrificed children.

It was only in relatively recent years that he had grown to hate Luume’irma. Taako. Angus. And now there was a tinny little tune coming from Agatha’s wrist.

_Fuck._

She was scratching at her clothes and growling. This was looking like a Spare Robe kind of deal. Thanks to Barry and Lup’s Luume shenanigans, he kept a spare as a matter of routine by now. At least Agatha was close to regular.

On the minus side, there were no conveniently hormone-regulating mushrooms in the vicinity.

On the plus side, if there was a kid about to be sacrificed in this latest necromantic cult, then that kid would be the luckiest kid in the world. The necromancers, on the other hand, would die of natural causes.

It was perfectly natural to be shredded apart by a luume-crazed half-elf for threatening a child.

_Rrriiiip..._  Agatha had decided her clothes were too itchy. Right down to her underwear.

Kravitz pulled the robe out and crammed it over her in one smooth move. The robe, crafted in the Astral Plane and made out of woven Night, could not possibly irritate anyone. After that, it was only a matter of helping her arms through the sleeves.

“Want,” she mumbled. “Where?”

Kravitz pointed her in the direction of the ominous chanting. Staying behind her just far enough to be able to pilot her. It didn’t take long for Agatha to classify one individual there as ‘feed’ and everyone else in her field of view as ‘fight’.

The low growl she made was their only warning.

All he had to do was gather up the freshly-ended Necromancers and push them through to the trainees on the other side. That, and help soothe the tiny Gnome now being nursed by a bloodstained half-Elf in a Reaper’s robe.

“No. Ag--” he sighed. Taako might not like this, but it was better than what was happening now. “Here.” He took a sweet cake out of the lunch Taako had packed for him and passed it to Agatha. “Feed the baby this.”

Gnomish children were tiny, and a spot of Prestidigitation made the cake and Agatha’s hands sparkling clean. The cake was enormous in those little hands. Even a baby with just four teeth knew what to do with a sweet cake.

All the crying stopped. Agatha was purring up a storm.

Kravitz took out his Stone of Farspeech. First... inform the new papa. Then, inform the new grampa. There would be hell to pay, of course. But guaranteed, this tiny new Gnome would have a family after all the arguments wore out.

“Baby,” cooed Agatha.

“Yeah,” said Kravitz, dialling up Angus’ frequency. “You got a  _nice_  baby.”


	54. Nonny Request #44

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> I'd love to hear more about Taako and Lups parents and their failed romance, please!

Everyone knew that the Sellsnows were the luckiest farmers in the realm. At one time, entire families had lived in that gigantic, mountain Ygdrasi tree and the attached burrows in the side of the mountain. They were luckier than having that stronghold, though. The Sellsnows threw to twins. Generation upon generation. Identical more than fraternal. The family portraits were full of double images. Loaded with images of siblings born mere minutes apart.

Everyone knew that twinned Elves were good luck. Gubbroera had merely been hoping for some of that luck to rub off on him. If he worked as a live-in farmhand for the luckiest family that ever lived, perhaps he would stop having such bad luck. So many accidents that laid him up for so long because he was  _Saryn_  - one immune to magic and without any of his own.

_They said that a deal gone foul with the fae had caused a maiden to choose between her infant and one crafted out of stone. She could not choose and took both home. That stone child may have looked like a child, but it had no magic, nor could magic change them. Thus it was a curse visited among a rare few to be born without any kind of Elven gift._

He hadn’t intended to fall in love with one of Tostaada Sellsnow’s daughters. But then came the accident that had rendered him almost immobile for most of autumn, through all of the winter, and well into the spring.

Memala had kept him company. Soft, gentle, trusting Memala. Who spoke no words of pity about his magic-resistant state. Who had learned medicine and alchemy just to help him recover.

They were young, barely past their hundredth year. Tostaada had forbade the union, telling Memala what a horrible life they would have because he was  _Saryn._  Because he couldn’t be saved with magic from anything that might befall him. Because he could die early and leave any children he had without a father.

Of course, none of this stopped them. They met in secret. They talked big dreams. They stole kisses. They heard about a new, tiny colony town near the mountains, where the raids would never reach. Tre Llew-Ddion. Where there wasn’t nearly enough danger. Where they could have a small cottage just big enough for one family.

When Memala left Sellsnow Farm, her sister and her brothers followed. Each setting up a business and growing a house in that little village. For a while, everything was perfect. Gubbroera and Memala even managed to conceive without the intervention of luume’irma. Always a good sign. Always a good omen.

Gubbroera found work in a manufactory. Applying lacquer to furniture parts. A nice, safe job. Something that couldn’t cause an accident. Because of their impending family, he was paranoid about taking precautions. He even gave up strong liquor, so that he wouldn’t fall because he was stumbling drunk.

The twins were bald as eggs when they were born. Lulu, born at the trailing edge of midsummer, had screamed and  _screamed_  until their twin brother, Koko, was returned to Lulu’s tiny hand. Born holding hands. Now  _there_  was an omen of good fortune. Koko’s first dawn would be the same as his birthing day. Gubbroera took him out to see it, wrapping a small hand around his finger.

His infant-grey eyes had beheld that sight in the same way babies beheld anything, with grumpy confusion and minor complaining. He kissed his son’s brow and returned him to the infant’s cote with his older twin.

A perfect little family.

They were almost a year old when their hair betrayed something peculiar. He was dark of hair. Memala was dark of hair. By all rights, these twins should be dark of hair; but they weren’t. The fine downy fuzz on their baby heads was golden. Not yellow, not amber, not a pale brown, but the exact colour of spun gold. They gleamed in the sunlight like treasure.

They could not be his.

He went around Tre Llew-Ddion in a homicidal rage. Confronting every man in the village and even the rare traders who stopped by of sleeping with his wife and making these twin bastards on her. It had taken a Stone of Truth at the village court and Memala’s heartfelt testimony to convince him that she was loyal to him.

When they turned two, he had a different answer to why they were they way they were. The twins were witch-eyed. Lulu’s left eye was golden and the other green, while Koko’s were the other way around.

The worst of curses, wrapped inside a blessing. There was only one force that could cause that to happen.

“They’re demons, Memala,” he had whispered. “For the safety of us and everyone in this town, we have to smother them before they can bring curses on us all.”

Memala shrugged away from him, sitting up in their cote. Glaring at him with eyes that shone in the night. “First they’re bastards,” she whispered, “and now you think they’re demons? What do I have to do, Gub? They’re  _our_  babies. No curses can come to children who are raised in love.”

“They’re evil,” he whispered. “Evil will follow them.”

She said, “I’m guarding them tonight. I’m setting wards tomorrow. They’re going to grow  _up,_  Gub. They’re going to be wonderful little people. They’re going to be amazing.”

“They’re going to be the end of us,” he said.

“Only if you let it.”

Their relationship ended that night, but neither would admit it for two more painful years full of murmured arguments, his heavy drinking, and spiteful words spat at each other like poisoned darts. Memala had never threatened him with violence until they were four.

He walked away. He’d had enough.

He would never see his children again for the rest of his life.


	55. Nonny Request #45

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Can we see more grandpa Taako? Maybe taking care of all the kids while their parents are on a dangerous case or something.

“Babies! Gimmie them babies!”

“Grampa!” Agnes cheered.

The twins, Aloicious and Ambrose, squealed and kicked as Taako swept them up on his arms to cover three small foreheads with kisses. “Mama and Papa are pretty silly, giving me all you babies...” he cooed. “We’re gonna have sugar cookies... and all the popcorn you can eat... and watch all the shows that babies should never see...”

“Sir,” sighed Angus.

“I know. I’m less of a pain in the ass when I’m on Luume.” He settled the kids onto a fantasy beanbag, where Neapolitan started grooming Ambrose. The tiny boy giggled.

Aloicious rolled over and started swinging his hand at Neapolitan’s fur. “Ki’y ka’!”

“Smart little nuggets,” said Taako. “Makes me wanna re-check the baby gates on all the ways to the upper floors.”

“On it,” said Agatha. She was pretty fast, but then, having three kids under seven years old had improved her move speed  _and_  her dexterity. She could double dash around the entire ground floor, checking every single byway upstairs or downstairs for potential egress.

She had it all done -and had re-enforced some- before Aloicious could clamber off the fantasy bean bag. Agatha was out of breath, but victorious. “Ten outta ten, Grampa. They’d have to work real hard to get to where they’re not supposed to be.”

“I got distractions galore and they love me. We’re gonna be fine.”

The air tore, and Kravitz re-entered the lands of the living. “Grand-babies! Grand-babies! I wanna hug and kiss my grand-babies!”

“Not while you’re chilly, babe,” Taako insisted. “Don’t wanna give the nuggets the chills.”

“So help me warm up,” he flirted.

They kissed.

“GROSS,” complained Agnes.

“One day, you might not mind so much,” Angus deposited the kids’ travel bags and spare pile of nappies. “We plan on only taking four days on this. Tops. Team Sweet Flips has orders to come help after two.”

“You’ll be fine,” said Kravitz. Well. He would know. “Taako and I are going to have four days worth of spoiling these kids absolutely rotten.” As if to prove his point, he produced a handful of individually-wrapped Fantasy Werthers Originals.

Angus glared at him. So did Agatha. The kids, on the other hand, were ecstatic. There was no time to chide them. He and Agatha had to go.

*

Taako chuckled. Let Agnes think he was feeding these kids candy twenty-four sev. That’s what grandparents were for. That’s what he got for making Taako a grandfather. Three times. Before he was even  _two hundred._  Little asshole.

For such a tall humanman, Ango certainly managed to produce some fucking tiny babies. These kids needed some good food to help them grow tall enough to overshadow their beanpole father.

Ha! That would be some revenge. Except for the part where they would be towering over their Grampa. He’d get pissy about that later.

Right now, he needed to make some good food for hungry little hands. The biggest problem was convincing these fussy little nuggets that it was good and not automatically yuck because of the ingredients.

Half was in the presentation. The other half was in the preparation. “Okay, my little nuggets. We’re going to make super-special fish and chips. Grampa and Popop are doing the dangerous stuff. You three get to help out with the super tasty stuff.”

“YAAAY!”

Aglet was already sold. She loved cooking with her grandparents. Krav could help the tiny twins with the stirring and watching and waiting for the timer. They were all up on their kiddie songs.

Taako got the kids to sprinkle salt and herbs on the salmon while Krav peeled and chopped the sweet potato. If they honey-roasted those, then the kids would definitely eat those vegetables. Taako cut the salmon into portions and set them with butter into the hot pans, then tumbled the chipped sweet potato through the honey.

They’d need regular interference to make certain of an even coat. Stirring the sauces - cheese or hollandaise or aioli - would keep the impatient occupied between turns.

Amber liked watching the mist drops on the glass lid of the frypan. He was smart enough not to touch. Aloe was all over the sauces, sometimes muscling his Popop out of the way so he could have his turn.

Aglet crouched by the oven door, watching the chips turn colours or the honey start to bubble. She had the patience of a proper chef. Time would tell if the other two had any such talent. They were two. About all they had the patience for was popcorn and pancakes.

Taako got down his cookbooks with the pictures in them. Readying them for the nuggets. Kids liked meals so much better if they could help make them. Giving them a choice in food always helped that sort of thing along.

Kids loved variety if they didn’t know it was gourmet... though Taako suspected at least one dish would be squid-weenies[1] in tomato sauce.

There would also be more than a few recipes that made a huge mess. It wasn’t a decently distracting kiddie holiday without an enormous mess.

He’d keep these kids so distracted that they wouldn’t want to go back to their parents. Riding deer, catching catfish, taunting the cats, and huge amounts of Fantasy Cartoons. That, and cuddles and food? They were set.

*

When Angus and Agatha returned, little worse for their adventures, it looked like the kitchen had exploded in recent history, but it smelled like something delicious had come out of Taako’s Aga.

The kids and their grandparents were in the largest cote that the house had on the ground floor. Two adults, three kids, five out of seven cats and a solid scattering of stuffed toys were tangled together in the blankets and pillows.

Aloicious still held half of a shaped cookie in one lax hand. Stained glass shortbreads. The worst combination of sugar, flour, mess, and the fun of melting hard candy in the oven.

Grampa sure knew how to keep them both hepped up and busy.

Agatha shared a telepathic look with him. He shrugged and toed off his shoes. they each crawled inside the cote, helped themselves to some leftover stained-glass cookies, and took a well-deserved rest.

There would be plenty of time for kissing babies when they were all awake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Insert spaghetti strands into cut-up cocktail franks. Boil. Consume with tomato sauce. Give Taako some time, he’ll figure out how to make that gourmet.


	56. Nonny Request #46

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> I just want to learn more about the Sellsnows. Maybe Angus asked questions (a young Angus doing a school project or post-canon Angus being curious as to why the giant tree house)?

It was a lazy, rainy day. The school holidays were past the initial excitement phase and into the boredom phase. Especially on lazy days like this one.

They were a family tangle. Cats and parents and child, all laying around in a cote and intermittently napping. Uncle Barry and Aunty Lup were taking turns napping and reading. Cats leaned on people and occasionally groomed them.

“Papa?”

“Hm?”

“Why’s this place called Sellsnow Farm, but you’re called Taako Taaco?”

“I’m descended from the Sellsnows, but on my mother’s side. Never learned my father’s surname, so... Didn’t have a last name for quite a while.”

Aunty Lup took a deep breath and said, “The surname we’ve got is a Clerical Error. They asked him his name, he said Taako. They said, ‘and your first name?’“

“It was too late by then. They spelled it with a C instead of a K, so Lup and I were permanently in the books as Lup and Taako Taaco.”

“So glad to be a Bluejeans,” Aunty Lup yawned. “No more horseshit.”

“So... how did they get the name Sellsnow? And why is the house a tree?”

“Tree  _and_  burrow,” Taako corrected. “That’s an extended history lesson.” He yawned and stretched. “A long,  _long_  time ago, Elves were the first intelligent people in the world.”

“If you listen to Elves,” added Aunty Lup. “Loads of others reckon they were first.” She stretched and sat up from leaning on Uncle Barry. “The brief part of it was that the Elves got arrogant and became enormous pains in the butt.”

Angus giggled.

“That naturally lead to a period of persecution,” said Dad from his apparent coma. “Lots of races chasing after Elves and hunting them down. They developed a lot of stealth techniques as a direct result.”

“That’s why you get Cloaks of Elven Kind that help you with your stealth,” said Uncle Barry. “And why you get Mountain Ygdrasi trees.”

“Arcane-altered arborea,” said Dad. “They can be shaped by Druids, Clerics, and the occasional Monk, I believe.”

“Might’a missed somebody,” said Aunty Lup. “Can’t be bothered remembering.”

“Sellsnow farms was like a fortress back in the early persecution age. Kind’a... a castle. There was enough room for a whole Elven village to hide in the warrens and wait out any besieging party,” said Papa. He moved just far enough to wrap himself around Angus. “With loads of passages so the kids and stuff can just nope out of there in safety.”

“They were dark times,” said Dad. “Lots of innocents on both sides.”

“Years passed and people didn’t need the defence,” said Aunt Lup. “The family stayed with it, but... the land wasn’t exactly fantastic for making food. The seasons were just a little too short.”

“Had to work as hard as possible to have enough to feed the families,” said Uncle Barry.

“Then Empanaada the First of Sellsnow realised that a valuable resource was literally falling out of the sky.”

“Snow,” Aunty Lup drawled. “They didn’t have imbued cold spells, so they needed ice to keep food and stuff cold and fresh. Snow, once packed, turns into ice. Ice... used to be worth twice its weight in gold.”

“Like... fifty years before you were born,” said Dad. “After that, they cracked the code for making Fantasy Refrigerators.”

“This farm fell into neglect before then,” Papa said. “Grampa Tostaada had a twin brother Taako. He was more into fame and fortune and his kids and grandkids were... uh...”

“Spoiled brats with an eye for profit and little else,” supplied Aunty Lup. “They took everything the farm did - including taking in travellers, and turned it into a profit.”

“This place did  _not_  do that well as a motel resort,” added Papa. “It sucked the soul out of the village and got way too commercial. Then all the fussy rich kids moved off because it got too big.”

“Couldn’t sustain it anyway,” Aunty Lup rearranged herself to lean on Papa. “We were long gone before then.”

“But we’re still Sellsnows. Same genes as the Tostaada who once lived here. All the old wards recognise us as family. Bonus, right?”

Angus put a mark in his book and curled up in his Papa’s arms. “It’s super nice,” he sighed. “Papa?”

“Mm-hm?”

“C’n you teach me how t’ make the best fried catfish?”

Papa chuckled. “Only if you help me catch the fish.”


	57. Nonny Request #47

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> You’ve done a loooooot of Taako comforting a scared Angus can we get the reverse and see a Angus try to comfort a freaked out Taako?

Taako had allegedly been teaching Angus survival skills. So far, that sort of training had involved waking up in the middle of nowhere with Taako lounging artfully on some landscape and the greeting, “Surprise, little man. Any thoughts on how to survive this one?”

Angus was getting used to it. He had set every possible alarm on his sleeping quarters, but still Taako managed to pick him out of bed, stuff him into a sleeping bag with some bare essentials, and take him off the moon and into a random wilderness. The only irritating thing at this point was that this was the third time in as many weeks.

Angus had had to admit it was effective. Taako would hang around and supply information whenever Angus stumbled. The basic rules had already been covered. Survival skills like the priorities of water, shelter, and food. Where the best places to locate all three could be. What perils to watch out for in which terrains, how to be prepared to escape them.

Never how to be prepared to beat them. These were survival lessons. Taako taught him survival. How to live another day. Getting strong enough to beat the heavy hitters involved living that long.

So far, this trip had been more pleasant than most. Fishing in the local stream, cooking over a campfire, running survival checks to forage for foodstuffs. Angus thought he was doing rather well, until he brought a handful of elderberries to his mouth.

“NO!” Taako screamed like he was watching his mother being murdered.

Angus dropped them out of reflex, but Taako was already on him, checking in his mouth, feeling him over, temperature and pulse, glaring into his eyes.

Taako was talking very quickly. “Nightshade looks like elderberries. Never eat ‘em if you can’t be sure. Watch out for sweats, light sensitivity, a high heart rate. Nausea. D’you feel nausea, kiddo? Any kind’a sick? Feel like y’r insides wanna become outsides?”

“I’m fine, sir, I didn’t even eat one.”

Prestidigitation to create a palm-sized glowing globe. It wavered back and forth in front of Angus’ eyes. Close and then further away. He kept this up for five whole minutes.

“Damn it, why’re your eyes so dark? Why’d I have t’ leave my Stone on the moon? You feeling any dryness in your mouth, sweetheart? Palpitations? Any need at all to throw up or take a dump?”

Taako’s pupils were paper-thin slits, even in the gloom of early evening. His pulse was jumping, his breath quickening. His ears lowered and his hair thickened as it curled with stress. He was panicking.

“Sir...” Angus held his hand. “I’m not dying, I promise. Let’s take some deep breaths, okay? Breathe with me.” He breathed a little slower than Taako’s panicked panting. Slowing down towards a normal rate as Taako slowed down. “I’m fine, sir. I did not eat any berries.”

“Good thing because those are night...” he trailed off, gaze jinking over all the plant. “Those are actual elderberries. Clusters, not singles. Different leaves... They. They’re... elder...” He pulled Angus close in a rare hug. His heart was pounding. “Better t’ stay away from ‘em, huh? Just in case.”

Taako was trembling, that night, as Angus made dinner. Since they were following the stream down its course, it was fish again. With safer wild herbs for seasoning. His hands shook as he wound his golden hair into its evening braids.

“Are you going to be okay, sir?” Angus asked.

“Watched a lot of people get nightshade poisoning,” his voice trembled, too. “Not pretty.” He crawled into his sleepy sack and Mage Handed the zipper closed. “You remember Hold Person, right?”

“It’s not a cantrip, sir. It’s a Second Level spell.”

“Well, fuck,” muttered Taako. “Not gonna lie, this’ll be a rough one.”

The ears of the ridiculous cartoon dog face on the chest of Taako's sleepy sack were also restraints for the arms. To stop a person inside from hurting themselves in the middle of their nightmares. Angus had to promise three times to sit on Taako if he tried to escape the camp.

Taako didn’t lie. It was a rough one. Three separate nightmares, one of which had him bawling like a child for someone named Sazed. A different one had Taako thinking Angus was a vengeful ghost. He slept peacefully at the dawn, and Angus let him have the extra rest.

The sunlight finally made him sit up and wake into the real world. “Ugh,” he said, “Fuck. Okay. You’re you. We’re still at a camp, and headed towards civilisation. I’m good. Lemme out of this thing.”

Angus set him free of the sleepy sack. Served a decent breakfast of leftovers and packed up what he could while Taako stretched and picked at his food.

Now the mystery of the Elf’s shadowed eyes and lack of appetite was solved, revealing another riddle underneath. If he had his notebook, he could write the clues down. Pity that wasn’t in his go-bag.

Angus didn’t try to eat any elderberries for the rest of the trip.


	58. Nonny Request #48

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Can we see more grandpa Taako? Maybe a sleepover while their parents are working on a dangerous case?
> 
> [AN: This got submitted twice, but I don’t care. Moar fluff!]

“If you kids don’t stop murdering each other back there,” threatened Angus McDonald, “I will turn this wagon around!”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” the riding deer and the Wizard mounted on it seemingly appeared out of nowhere. Angus had seen him Blink closer from up on one of the hills. “This is Elf territory. I’m stealing your babies.”

Three small people screamed, “GRAMPAAAAA!” and leaped from their wrestling, off the wagon, and towards the deer that Taako was riding. The deer, long since used to this shit, didn’t even flinch. Not even when Aloicious tried to do gymnastics on the antlers.

Taako had Bigby’s Hand ready to scoop children onto the deer’s back. “Not a good idea at the end of Summer, Aloe. Those things can fall off, precious.”

Ambrose had leaped directly into his Grampa’s arms and clung there, whimpering a little.

Agnes had leaped from the wagon to her accustomed seat in front of Grampa Taako. She and her baby brother Aloicious were excited to be spending time at the country estate. Ambrose was not.

“I’ll drop off their stuff in the vestibule,” said Angus. “They’re really hyped up, this time.”

“Two outta three ain’t bad,” mumbled Taako as Angus urged the horse further up the track to the giant tree house. “You okay, there, Amber?”

Ambrose shook his head and clung to Taako. He had wetness in his eyes and he mumbled, “Mama’s goin’ be hurt.”

Taako rubbed the babyest brother’s back and purred for him. “Slow your roll, little man. It ain’t that bad, I promise. Your mama’s a competent lady. She’s more likely to rescue your pop.” He started the deer at a slow amble towards the farm, much to Aloicious’ disappointment. Agnes, who had gone through this stage of things, decided to enjoy the scenery and point out cool things for the older of the twins.

Ambrose was still pouty and clingy. Not wanting to enjoy himself. “Mama  _could_  be hurt,” he objected.

He was four. Kid had spent little holidays like this with the Grandparents since they were infants. It was only now that he’d made the connection about what was happening  _around_  those fun little holidays. “Why spend all your energy being afraid of what  _might_  happen?” said Taako. “Let’s focus on what  _will_  happen, huh?”

He was still sulky. “How do you know what’ll happen?”

“I’m nearly a hundred and seventy years old. I’ve seen lots,” said Taako. “What’ll happen. We’re gonna ride this deer to the house. Aaand Papa’s gonna hug you and kiss you and try not to cry. Popop’ll take the wagon into parking because Papa’ll wanna ride a horse back to be faster...” Taako lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “He wants more time to smooch your Mama.”

“EUW,” chorused the tiny trio. One day, they may not mind so much.

“Then we go inside and I help you all make some Ambrosia salad with real food instead of that... Miller Labs pressurised shit.”

“Grampa...” chided Agnes. “It’s not  _evil...”_

“Listen. We  _just_  got cream cheese, and this nerd has to go cram it into a can and do weird things with it? No. No spray can anything for Taako.” He cleared his throat. “After we make the Ambrosia, we need to let it chill, so we’ll head off to the swimming hole and chill for a while. If one of you catches a catfish, we could have it for dinner.”

“I’m not bait,” protested Aloicious, who had caught the last catfish by accidentally stepping in its maw.

“Pretty tasty in beer batter, all the same,” Taako breezed. “You’re even bigger, now, they probably won’t eat’cha.” Taako knew damn well that none of the catfish in the pond would even try. They were lazy little fucks by now. Well fed on Taako’s vegetable scrapings and stale bread or cakes. “After a swim and fuckin’ around with the fish, we’ll all need a bath. And then Popop’s gonna break out a cake that he hid somewhere...” That Taako had baked and decorated, some time previously.

The kids laughed. They loved it when their Grampa got dramatic about his diet.

“Then we all sit down on the fantasy bean bags for bad food and worse fantasy television and cats and cuddles. You little nuggets will be out of it before nine. Tops.”

“Will not,” said Ambrose. “I’m gonna wait up for Mama.”

“You’re gonna fall asleep,” predicted Taako. “And your Mama and Papa are going to be just fine. They’ll come in some hours before dawn and curl up nearby because they don’t wanna wake you. And when you  _do_  wake up, they’ll be waiting for you like it ain’t no thing.” Taako thought about this. “And they’ll have probably finished off the catfish and all the other stuff.”

“Will not,” protested Ambrose. “‘S gonna go  _bad.”_

One day, it might. Taako would rather walk naked into the Fire Plane than tell a four-year-old child that. “What’s so bad about staying with Grampa and Popop, huh? It’s fun here.”

Ambrose only shrugged.

“Fine. Be grumpy about it. You’ll see. Taako is never wrong.”

*

Three in the morning is the traditional hour that things go tits up in obscenely bad and vile ways.

Not this three in the morning, though.

Taako woke to the sound of his kid and daughter-in-law attempting to sneak into the house. Whispers. Stocking feet. Shushing each other. None of it worked against an Elf who had long-term-trained paranoia about that sort of shit. Life on the road will teach a person to always be wary of people trying to be quiet.

He sat up carefully and watched those night-blind humanman goofuses attempt to sneak in to the big living room.

Taako lit a candle. “Good morning,” he whispered.

“Dangit, sir. Could you not do that?”

Taako, legs dominated by both husband and sister and three cats, just smiled. “So you know,” he said, “it all went according to plan.”

Agatha lay down sort of curled around Ambrose, so she’d be close when he woke up.


	59. Nonny Request #49

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> a thought: half elf ango that was taught to be ashamed of and hide his heritage learns about purring for the first time. (a lil bit post canon maybe?? idk whatever works best) i just got the mental image in my head of angus being comfy enough to purr during team movie night or something and having a “wtf was that” type of reaction, but just imagine the angst opportunities here 👀

For the first time in a long time, Angus McDonald felt safe. Nobody around him was judging him, or at least not judging him harder than the word ‘nerd’. That was just a word and wouldn’t cause anyone using it to hurt him. Nobody telling him everything he’d done wrong and never telling him what he’d done right. In fact, his time in the Bureau had been -he had to be honest- the best time of his life.

Cracking mysteries, doing the good he wanted to see in the world, being praised for his deeds, following independent studies on topics and skills that interested  _him_  and not pursuing the ones that his parents insisted on. The food was great. The people were friendly, for the most part.

Magnus kept pulling mean goofs, but Taako was actually trying to be a better person about Angus’ presence.

And now, there was Moving Scroll Nite. One of his favourites - Fantasy Labyrinth. He got to sit between Taako and Madam Director, two people he secretly wished were his actual parents. They were way more helpful about improvements on his business than his actual parents were.

In the middle of Fantasy David Bowie’s introduction, when the Goblin King was flipping crystal spheres around,  _IT_  started to happen. A rumbling vibration started deep in his chest. His parents had never liked that happening.

Angus cleared his throat, desperately running through the horrible things that stopped  _IT_  short. Grampa’s death day. Something horrible happening to his actual parents. His birth mother’s disdain in regards to his existence and the only words she ever said to him: “You should have died already.”

It was only when he imagined something horrible happening to  _Taako_  that his growing thunder instantly toned down to a subtle stutter. Inaudible to everyone around him. All he had to do was keep that image in the back of his mind and nobody would say anything rude.

Taako pressed the back of his hand to Angus’ brow. “You okay, little man?” he whispered.

Angus lied like a rug. “Just peachy, sir. If you don’t mind, I’d like to enjoy the movie, please.”

Madam Director leaned back in her seat and started making signs in the air with her fingers. ESL[1], but Angus didn’t pay much attention to it beyond that. He could pretend that they were plotting to throw him out of the Bureau if it helped keep  _IT_  down to imperceptible levels.

Taako and Madam Director were having a covert conversation literally behind his back. Good. Less cause for that thing to happen at all.

When Sara was lost in the stone part of the maze, and little goblins were messing up her marks, Madam Director put her hand to Angus’ forehead. Then gentle fingers to his neck. He deflected her hands when they approached his chest.

More signing happened. Angus scooted forwards and kept the fury in his mind so that he wouldn’t get any louder. Not that it had much reason to come out, any more. At least they left him alone for the rest of the movie.

* * *

 

“You remind me of the babe,” said Fantasy David Bowie as the owl flew off in the moonlight and the credits started to roll. Most of the audience began shuffling out, but Taako and Madam Director stayed behind. Eyes centred on Angus.

They all waited together, until Taako, Madam Director, and himself were the only people left in the Fantasy Theatre. Angus folded his arms and refused to start the conversation.

“So,” said Taako. “Who was the asshole who got on your case for purring?”

That was exactly the wrong thing to say. “MY PARENTS AREN’T ASSHOLES! THEY’RE TRYING TO RAISE ME RIGHT! I’m the one who’s messing up. Every day.”

Taako reached out and tucked some of Angus’ curls behind his pointed ear. “No  _Elf_  would teach you that purring is wrong...”

“Angus... purring is a perfectly natural reaction to stimuli. It’s part of proper communication, proper emoting... withholding it is... it’s worse than teaching a left-handed person to only write with their right hand. It causes horrible and lingering emotional scars.”

“If you don’t wanna talk about it,” said Taako.

He could do this. Angus took a deep breath. “My birth mother left me with Father, and then he re-married. They’ve been making sure I grow up right.”

“Both humans?” said Madam Director. She’d seen how Angus hid the points of his ears in his hair.

Angus could only nod.

“Humanmen,” muttered Taako. He tutted. “Sure they were trying their best, but Elves need to purr, kiddo. You. Me. That nerdy library nook you like to live in. Elf Practice. Tomorrow.”

“I’ll arrange a counsellor to help with the -uh- emotional side of things,” said Madam Director. “Would you feel more comfortable talking to a man or a woman?”

Angus couldn’t dredge words out of his mouth. He shrugged. He couldn’t look at either of them.

“I’ll find a good match,” said Madam Director. She finally got up and left. So did Taako.

* * *

 

Taako was sprawled in Angus’ favourite book nook and seemingly half asleep. He opened an eye upon Angus’ approach. He yawned and stretched and sat up. “Morning,” he said. “I don’t get up this early for just anyone, so gratitude should be a thing.”

“Uh. I-I-I’m not-- I dunno-- Maybe-- This isn’t the greatest idea?”

“Says who?” Taako pointed out a pillow in a sunbeam. “Sit. Right there.”

Only the concept that his parents would freak out about this had him hesitating. Sunbeams were so nice...

“Go on. It won’t bite.”

Well... he could easily get his teenage rebellion phase started early... Angus sidled into the sunbeam and hummed a little in delight at the warmth. The next thing he knew, there was a small plate of fat little cakes with walnut halves on top of them. They were drizzled with honey and glistening like a forbidden treasure.

“Elven sweet curd cakes. Try one,” said Taako. “I checked. You’re not allergic to walnuts or anything else in there.”

Angus gingerly picked one up and tried a bite. Just the right balance of sweet, gooey, chewy, and a little zing of bitterness to stop it being cloying. This was even better than the macarons. He was licking his fingers clean in seeming seconds.

“There’s more. Feel free.” Taako had somehow produced a hot chocolate from nowhere. Prepared just the way Angus liked it with the dusting of candied honey crystals and cinnamon on the cream.

He could feel  _IT_  start to happen.

Taako booped his nose. “Uh-uh, kiddo. Let it out. You’re part Elf. Own it.”

_THRRRMMMMBLPT..._  He flinched out of instinct. His parents weren’t here. His parents couldn’t know. They’d never hear about this unless they heard him purr.

“That’s it,” cooed Taako. “It’s okay, now.”

Another cake. A swig of the world’s most perfect hot chocolate. The sunbeam and the comfort and the deliciousness all got to him.

_ThrummmblerumblerumbleRUMBLERUMBLERUMBLErumblerumblepurrrrrr..._

Taako lunged into a hug, and Angus could feel  _his_  chest vibrating in a matching purr. “There’s my beautiful magic boy,” he said. “You  _got_  this, champ.”

Angus’ next purr was so loud that the nearby window shook with it.

Taako was impressed. “Damn, son. You got yourself one hell of an engine in there.” He directed Angus to lean into the sunbeam and sort of curled around nearby so he, too, could snack on an Elven sweet curd cake. “Perfect. We’ll lounge around in comfort and safety and practice purring together.”

Angus’ voice vibrated with his ‘engine’. “How long, sir?”

“...’till I wake up again,” Taako yawned, got himself comfortable, and apparently fell asleep. Purring the whole time.

Angus ate another cake. Elf Practice was looking pretty excellent so far.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Elven Sign Language.


	60. Reader Request #7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kiwibite said:  
> I've been having a pretty bad day with my mental health and stuff, is there a chance you could do a fluffy fanfic with Taako and Krav going on an adorable date or something? Sorry for bothering you... It's alright if you can't
> 
> [AN: I hope you got some fluffy stuff while you were waiting for me to get around to this prompt]

“Taako Taaco...” said the Reaper. “You are comin’ wif me.”

Taako, having just finished one of his cake frosting extravaganzas, smirked at the spectre of Death. “You going to do this for every date night, babe?”

Kravitz reformed into his fleshy, handsome self, chuckling the entire time. “It makes you smile, Dove. Anything’s worth it if it makes you smile.”

Taako placed the cake under a preservation cover and tidied himself up. He knew he had a dusting of sugar on his cheek, colouring staining his hands, and that his hair was a mess. “I can tell you got something planned, bone daddy, any guidance on how to dress up?”

“You always look amazing no matter what,” said Kravitz. “Let’s just say... changeable weather is anticipated.”

“Good thing I can afford silk,” singsonged Taako. “Timetable?”

“Not important.” He gathered Taako in his arms and enjoyed a kiss. “You’re worth the wait, Dove.”

Taako’s hands, covered in colouring and flour and fondant, tangled into Kravitz’ hair. He was out of breath when he pulled away. “I’ll try not to keep you waiting long.”

“I could wait forever,” said Kravitz. “I already have.”

* * *

 

Taako didn’t take forever. He washed up quickly and dressed efficiently in a khaftan top and some flowy pants made of finely-patterned silk. His heels were relatively utilitarian - at least in comparison to most of Taako’s footwear. Combined with his usual two-foot wizarding hat and trademark Umbrastaff, he cut quite the figure.

His golden hair had been combed, twisted, and wound up into a twisted braid that ended in a jewel-encrusted clamp with no visible means of closure.

“Whoah,” breathed Kravitz. Taako could easily tell he was falling in love again.

Taako struck a pose. “So. You got a plan or are you just gonna undress me with those hypnotizingly dark eyes?”

Kravitz, the cheat, had altered his form to create a splendid suit that matched Taako’s clothing. Darker toned, of course, but still vibrant. “Oh, I got a plan...”

They were arm in arm as Kravitz tore holes in reality. In a dizzying moment, they were in a thronging marketplace halfway across the world. It was rife with lifeforms of all shapes and sizes. Every colour in the rainbow and more than a few that weren’t.

“Shopping?” guessed Taako.

“Better,” said Kravitz, leading him through the multicoloured labyrinth. There, in a haze of steam, smoke, herbs and spices, were a host of food carts. “I searched the world for something new,” he said. “Something to inspire you.”

Taako’s eyes were lit with delight. “Ooooh...” He let his nose lead him to the best-smelling foodstuff and watched the cart’s chef in action. Already taking notes. Of course he had to try some, and then share with Kravitz as he learned about the spices.

One such tidbit had him blowing flames as he spoke for twenty minutes afterwards. They were harmless, and came out in different colours for every word. Taako wanted to play with  _that_  spice for the rest of time, and bought a whole sack of the stuff to take home.

They must have shared thirty different dishes there. With more than thirty kisses in-between. They did go shopping, too. Buying an assortment of interesting and shiny things that Taako would turn into clothing at one point or another.

“Gonna be hard to top, ain’t it love?” teased Kravitz.

“Ooh, I dunno,” Taako cooed. “I might have me some plans...”

Next week, Taako would be showing Kravitz the Shadow Sanctum, where the adepts took turns singing the universe. A wordless, eternal chorus. Beauty without light. It would be fun watching that Bard’s face in the darkness.

Until then, though, there would be plenty of opportunity to fall in love with him on an hourly basis.


	61. Reader Request #8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brightness_Random said on Ch 53:
> 
> Aaaah!! This was so good!! I would love to see a continuation of this? If you have any spots open for requests, I would love to see the fallout of this encounter! Sometimes your daughter-in-law adopts a necromantic sacrifice and you have to deal will being a grandpa all the sudden. Surprise!
> 
> [AN: TAZ Prompts remaining: 10]

Good news: The McDonald family was larger by one, without the extra fuss and bother of gestation and delivery.

Bad news: Taako was not even two hundred yet and was a grampa for the fourth time in a row.

What the fuck news: To a teeny tiny baby Gnome who was lucky to escape a really grody necromantic ritual.

Good news (ish) Taako now had an even number of grandsons and granddaughters. Though any one of them could change their minds whenever.

Bad news (ish) Gnomish babies were really, _really_ fucking tiny.

Her name was Ella, she was six to seven months old, and she was a quarter the size of an Elven baby her age. Asleep, she looked like a doll. Her skin was the same colour as polished oak and her wild down of head hair was the same colour as bronze. Tucked into Agatha's arms, it was hard to believe that that was a living being.

Taako was afraid to even whisper near her. He said, "So tiny," for what felt like the umpty-billionth time. And, "How dare you make me a grampa _again._ Aren't three enough for you two?"

Agatha was pre-occupied with watching that too-small face twitch in her sleep. "Nope," she said.

Angus, halfway through a book about Gnomish childcare, whispered. "Oh, we're going to bring a multicultural fucking village in to live here with Grampa Taako. One abandoned baby at a time."

"Gonna have to breed up some miniature deer for her to ride when she's older," Taako muttered.

Agnes, Ambrose, and Aloicious crowded close as Ella stretched and squirmed. "Is she gonna like us?" worried Aloicious.

"She's a baby," whispered Agnes knowingly. "She likes warm, and quiet, and comfort. She needs food and someone to help her keep clean. Knowing who we are isn't in the equation yet."

Ella started to fuss. Squirming in place and squinting at the world as if looking for someone to blame.

"She's going to need changing, and some food and drink," said Agatha.

"Already got the custard going," said Taako. "And some doe milk keeping warm in those titchy bottles."

"Our spoons are too big," worried Ambrose. "How's she gonna eat?"

Kravitz had been rummaging around in one of the bigger drawers. "Here. Caviar spoon."

It was silver, and just the right size for feeding a baby gnome custard and mashed peas. She couldn't fit in a high chair so they draped her into a Fantasy Beanbag and everyone took turns wiping her face. "This is exactly right," said Angus. "Gnome babies are used to having the whole family looking after them. She's gonna feel right at home."

"Yeah, apart from the size difference," said Taako. He tickled her with a fingertip. "Who's th' teeniest, tiniest housemate we've ever had? You is. Yes you is you little darlin-- OW!"

Ella had seized Taako's finger and employed her teeth. Though they were small, they were sharp.

"Not num-nums, Ella," cooed Agatha. She had the spoon. "Here num-nums."

"She _bit_ me," Taako complained.

Kravitz kissed his finger better. "You should have learned not to poke hungry babies by now, Dove. Especially by the fourth time."

Taako shrugged. "Eh, it's a tradition."

"Umnumumumum," said Ella, as if agreeing. She took her bottle, and let herself be burped without any further injury to anyone, and was allowed to sit and roll on the living room rug, observed by wary cats. They knew what it meant when there was a baby in the house.

Everyone agreed that she was adorable. Everyone also agreed that a being that small had no business creating such an enormous fuss. She was too small, even for an Elven trundle-pod off to the side of a cuddle cote, and nestled on the one mattress like a jewel on a velvet pillow. There wasn't a single hour of the night in which someone wasn't hovering near her place of rest and watching her breathe.

Lup found her brother on watch, somewhere close to three in the morning, peeked in to see the newest member of their strange, strange family. "Yup," she whispered. "Smallest housemate ever."


	62. Reader Request #9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dualityandsuch said:  
> Prompt: Ango McDango and dads go shopping for pastel outfits because Ango + pastel butters my croissants and gives me hope

By the third home visit, Angus felt a little more confident about Mr Taako and Mr Kravitz meaning the things they said. Especially when it came to choosing his clothes. Their first shopping trip had arranged one ensemble and one set of pyjamas, that were still there and waiting for him by the second home visit. Further, Mr Taako and Mr Kravitz let him pick out another outfit to wear if he wanted one.

Which was still there today, for his first week with his potential parents.  _This_  time, the destination was not Fantasy Costco, but a rather more extensive clothing establishment with every possible fashion choice for every possible size from Kobold to Gargantuan.

“Seven days, seven outfits,” said Mr Taako. “Anything you like, and they’re guaranteed to have it in your size. Anything you want, pumpkin.  _Anything.”_

Mr Kravitz folded the handle of a pull-along basket into Angus’ hand. “You can mix and match if you like. There’s no such thing as a bad choice.”

They had never uttered the phrase, “Are you sure?” when he was picking out stuff before. They asked, “You like that one?” and accepted his answer. 

Angus avoided the racks containing over fifty shades of grey. He had had enough of grey in the orphanage. The bright colours dazzled his eye a little too strongly and he didn’t want to wear all black like Mr Kravitz did. Therefore, the improbable alternative was pastels. As he approached the display, the default human mannequin shifted to become a mannequin Angus, replete with matching skin tone, showing off the best-selling ensembles including dresses and skirts.

Angus blushed. The orphanage had Views about clothing non-options according to gender.

Mr Taako leaned down to whisper in his ear,  _“Anything_  you want. No judgements here.” As if to prove his point, he reached out and grabbed a flowy, flower-patterned dress with frilly overhangs and draped it against his own body. “This would look sweet for the summer heatwave...” Then he draped it against Mr Kravitz. “Oh yeah, babe.”

Mr Kravitz smiled warmly and said, “Dove... this is for Angus, not for us.”

“Who says we can’t all have some fun?” scoffed Mr Taako. “Let’s enable our little lad. Come on.”

Angus still feared the watchful eye and the sharp tongues of the nurses and the staff of the orphanage. As if they were following his every move once he was past the severe iron bars of the institute’s fences. Thus, he edged carefully closer to the racks of pastel blue. Still a boy colour, even if it was a  _baby_  boy colour.

No lightning, jeers, nor vengeful figures of wrath descended on him from above, behind, or anywhere. He picked up a pair of pastel short pants, and the display showed him a myriad of garments that could go with.

He put it back before Mr Taako could ask the question. He didn’t like it. He picked it because he was  _supposed_  to. The next garment almost leaped into his hand. A pair of culottes. Pleated and swishy and with a nice, smooth feel under his hands. They looked real nice on the Angus mannequin, too.

Realisation dawned that he didn’t  _have_  to pick blue, either. He replaced it with a pastel teal coloured one, then a green one, then a powder orange.

“Like that one?” said Mr Kravitz. He was wearing a pale blue, floor-length gown, now.

Angus found the courage to speak. “...’essir.” Just... not very loud.

Mr Taako had found a fountain of frills in a rainbow of colours and was swishing around in it to make the frills flare out. “I think this baby needs glitter, how about you?” he said.

“Babe,” chided Mr Kravitz. “You already have three of those in different colours...”

Mr Taako struck a pose. “What’s wrong with having four?”

Angus let the interplay go on while he looked at the matches for the culottes. The gods of vengeance and destruction failed to appear when he picked out a frilly shirt with slashed sleeves, either.

He spent half an hour playing with a dress with rainbows of mermaid sequins that all flipped to a glittering black, but he didn’t end up putting it in his basket. He preferred to move on to other things.

Having seen Mr Taako lounging around in footie pyjamas, he had to at least look at them and see if he really liked them. So far, he was comfortable in the enormous and soft giant T-shirt, but now that he’d seen Mr Taako being comfy in a set, he had to look.

Too tight, when he tried a set on. Not his thing.

There was no judgement from his rejection, either. No cries for him to hurry up. No disparaging remarks about his ability or lack thereof to make up his mind. Just Mr Taako and Mr Kravitz in different, pastel-coloured outfits as the day progressed.

Angus finally reached a count of seven, and didn’t protest as Mr Taako threw in another multipack of underwear. He did protest when he saw the rainbow mermaid sequin dress come  _out_  of the basket and join the rest of the clothes on the way to the checkout.

“I- I didn’t... I didn’t pick that, sir?”

“Want we should put it back?” offered Taako. “I saw you playing with it, I thought you liked it?”

He couldn’t say he didn’t like it. Because he did like it. It was just... “...dunno if I’m brave enough t’ wear it,” he mumbled.

“You can still play with it even if you don’t wanna wear it yet. Everything in here is charmed with Good Fit,” Taako breezed. “How d’you think Krav and I had so much fun with the merchandise?”

Mr Kravitz added, “It’s okay to want clothes and never be bold enough to wear them. So I’m told.”

“I have entire closets of clothes I’ve never worn,” added Mr Taako. “Don’t mind if ya wanna play with ‘em bee tee dubs. It’s half the fun.”

Angus did that, but always made sure he had ‘proper’ clothing on when he did. He could get braver. Eventually. Just... not this week.


	63. Nonny Request #50

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Could we see your take on Lup having sensory issues after getting a new body?

Twelve years, give or take. All alone. Without any real senses. Without touch. Without feeling. Twelve years of being emotions and memory and trapped in a curtained hell. Air burned her lungs when she took her first breath in a decade. Weight pulled her down. She was heavy. The slimy goo was heavy. The robe was heavy and the warmth of it was as unfamiliar as the cold of the goo.

Barry had done this time and time again during the time she was trapped. Tirelessly swapping from lich to body and taking risk after risk to try and find her. He was used to this. More or less. He knew that she didn’t need or want a hand grasping her arm to help her up. He knew that that would be too much on skin that was technically mere minutes old.

He had a mirror so she could see that she’d come out right. With the right junk and all. That had been a major worry for her, while her body had been growing. Even though she could see the progress, it had still been a big terror.

She defused that anxiety with humour. “Man, I forgot how good I look.”

Barry smiled, as he always smiled. So dopey in love with her that it almost oozed from every pore.

“I’m about to smooch your fucking brains out, babe.” Of all the things she missed most, two were at the top of her list. Barry’s kisses and cuddle-puddles with her twin brother. Taako was too much into a freak-out to watch her emerge in the flesh and had elected to stay at the moon base, wrapped around his boyfriend for comfort.

Barry felt so warm against her. His hands were so rough - when had that happened? No. It wasn’t him. It was her. Skin. Organs. Even her hair was brand new. Minutes old. She had a newborn’s sensitivity to the world in an adult body that came replete with a lifetime’s worth of scars.

She had to remind herself that Barry’s skin wasn’t rough. It was her hands that were new. That the touch she had craved wasn’t the sensory explosion that she felt it as. That she didn’t need to be afraid of it.

Barry held her close as she hyperventilated, so very gently. “You can cry,” he whispered. “It’s okay. I cried the first time, too.”

She instantly had the mental image of the man she’d loved -discreetly and not so discreetly- for a hundred years, coming out of a tank like that, and onto a rough floor. All alone, with few memories, and nobody to help him. That was all she needed to tip herself over the edge.

She had spent decades of her life hiding her feelings. Putting up a wall between herself and beings who could hurt her or her brother. All she needed was permission from one of the few she could trust completely, and the concept that he had been hurt.

Lup cried like a child. Let Barry take her to a soft cot full of fluffy pillows and blankets and each other. Let herself cling and howl until the weariness of it took her down into lassitude. Let herself be looked after. Barry wiping away at tears and snot and drool. Barry gently kissing her, caressing her. Comforting her. Let herself run dry. Let herself sigh.

She finally said, “Do I have to start with baby food?”

Barry laughed. “Comfort food,” he said. “The easy stuff. You can work your way back up to wow-wow sauce.”

Breathing was okay, now. Touch was okay, now. Which was a good thing, because, “Taako’s gonna want to hug the stuffing out of me.”

“Don’t blame him,” said Barry. “I can take you there express if you want.”

She could stand, now. She could stand to stand without the feeling of the world pulling her down. Without the feeling of her clothes wanting to drag her through the centre of the globe. She could stand to feel bare earth on her feet. “I think I’m ready.”

She wasn’t ready.

Not for seeing Taako with his glamour off, red-eyed from crying and frizzy-haired from worrying. Not for seeing him so  _vulnerable_  with her own eyes. Not for hearing that little shriek of relief. Definitely not for the impact of a brother who had only recently realised what had been missing from his life for twelve horrible and long years.

Lup was definitely not prepared for that shuddering intake of his breath that meant that he was about to start bawling his eyes out. He had a death-grip cling to her. Just like she had to him. His scent was all she needed to know that she was  _home._

She said, “I missed you so much.”

Taako said, “I wish I had,” and then the tears fountained out of both of them.

They finished up kneeling and leaning into a huge Fantasy Beanbag, their spouses cuddled around them, and only the fairy lights to give their living room some shape.

Her voice trembled as she said, “That was more emotional than it had to be.”

Taako sniffled. “Got’cha a comfort food feast with add-your-own spices,” he offered. “I wanna watch you work your way up.”

“Sadist,” she laughed. “I’m gonna eat ‘till I creak and fall asleep with all of you around me.”

“Bold of you to assume we could let you go,” said Taako and Barry together.

Gods, it was good to be back in the flesh.


	64. Nonny Request #51

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> I would love to see more Neosemo, if you'd please! Maybe telling grampa or having that party you mentioned last time we saw him?

The whole gang was invited to the party. That meant snuggle-buddies were included, and some baby-mommas came too because -hey- free food. The new family seemed to just roll with it and rent a hall, throwing the doors open to anyone who was hungry.

Neosemo hadn’t been born yet, when the Story and Song flooded the world, but he’d seen enough penny plays. He knew enough to know that the Birds were formidable, loaded, and dangerous to rile.

The penny players always picked skinny actors to play the Twins, and put shining yellow wigs on with the red robes. Therefore, Neosemo didn’t expect the upholstered forms nor the bright colours they wore. Yet, they were unmistakable.

Hair like gold. Mismatched eyes of amber and green. A casual disregard for how many spell slots they had was a definite giveaway.

Neosemo was nervous about approaching them. They should have been in red robes. They should have been something more than everyone else. Yet, there they were. Laughing and joking and bustling about with trestle tables and foodstuffs. Taako from TV, who had faced down -and then married- the Grim Reaper had no business wearing a  _Kiss the Cook_  apron nor cracking what had to be a terribly filthy joke.

“...didn’t do that when  _I_  tried it,” was the punchline. Several people around the immediate area were turning red. One was laughing so hard that he was drooling.

Neosemo loaded up a plate with offerings that were already crowding the table, licking sauce off his fingers.

Taako - it had to be Taako. He was the one with the apron and the slightly duller hair than his sister. Taako turned and gasped. “Angus Taacoson McDonald... how  _dare_  you. You can’t even wait to make your own, you had to adopt?”

Neosemo stuffed his face before anyone could chuck him out.

“You’re the one throwing the family welcome party, Papa,” said Professor McDonald. “Also - you  _know_  how Uncle Irma can change a life.”

“More than one,” said Taako. “Teenaged grand-baby. I’m barely two hundred! I’m too young to be the  _grandfather_  of a  _teenager._  I’m old before my time! Old before my time...” He struck a pose. Three poses. Languishing for want of an audience.

“You still don’t look a day over a hundred and sixty to me,” said a dark-hued man in dark-hued clothes with silver ornaments in his hair. That had to be Kravitz.

“Flirt,” chided Taako. He put down a dish of things that Neosemo wasn’t able to identify. “Okay. You’re new to the family, kiddo. This kind of thing is normal for us. C’mere. Come to Grampa Taako. Gods, I can’t believe I just said that...”

Neosemo shuffled nervously closer to one of the most powerful wizards in the twelve planes. He was aware that he had his mouth full, and sauce dribbling down his chin, and one hand full of plate, and the other filthy with sauce and food.

He fully expected this literal living legend to tear him down atom by atom. Which was why it was such a surprise to have Taako from TV sweep him up in his arms. “Welcome to the family, kiddo! You and your friends might just give me a challenge for a change.”

Professor McDonald had wet wipes. So did Taako. They both had spare utensils for Neosemo to use. They both introduced him to more family than he could remember, let alone think plausible.

The full-blood Orc who proclaimed herself to be his Aunty Killian, wrapped him up in a bone-crushing hug and told him that she could help him build up his muscles if he ever got tired of living like a wimpy, weedy Elf.

The human with the greying sideburns offered him a dog, and told him that he was Uncle Magnus.

Instant family. Just add Starblaster.

The doughy human with the horn rim spectacles and the perpetual blue jeans had to be the Barry Bluejeans of legend. He sort of sat beside Neosemo and said, “You don’t have to be what anyone else wants you to be. We can all help you in whatever you want, wherever you want to go. Education, work, a career somewhere... we got your back. Just... remember. You gotta be true to yourself or your dreams will never come true.”

He had heard people making plans for him before. People wanting to help him by getting his tusks removed. People wanting to help him by putting him into some institution designed to pump out perfect, cookie-cutter kids. People wanting to help him be what he wasn’t.

_These_  people were just giving him offers.  _If you want to..._  not  _We want you to..._  Just one of the many differences that made the Starblaster family what it was. And better - they were just as welcoming to Neosemo’s street family. Letting them know that there were plenty of rooms in the farmhouse, if they wanted to help out, they could live there.

Angus caught up with him as the party was winding down to people lounging around with drinks in hand. “You look like you’re thinking some deep thoughts, there.”

“Old Maisy used to look after a bunch of kids when I was little. She was always coming up with these weird old sayings,” he said. “She said,  _home is where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in.”_

“Interesting choice of wise words,” allowed Angus.

“I was just thinking... Home is where they welcome you in, whether they have to or not.” He looked out over the motley crew, where Tuff Jari was learning how to ride a deer under the guidance of two Elves and a guy who looked like he’d never exercised in his life. “This feels like it’s gonna be a great home.”


	65. Nonny Request #52

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Could we see some Pine Guard team building/bonding?

The Pine Guard used to be great. A well-oiled machine that took out abominations like they took out their lunch. It had once been something magnificent. Until recently, it was Mama, Barclay, and the handful of Sylphs in and around Kepler who could actually do something useful about the situation. Situations that frequently got out of hand, no matter what.

Mama knew that the sequential clusterfucks couldn’t continue. She also knew that she was no spring chicken. Hell, she was barely an autumn fowl. She had a bum ticker, stress out the wazoo, and three chucklefucks who could barely keep a plan together. Sure, they were great at improvising, but they needed to get better.

Strengthen the weaknesses, for instance. Which was why they were having training sessions in the long-abandoned old water park called Watersports Wonderland. It was safe and had been safe for a very long time because nobody in their right mind wanted to be associated in any way with a place called Watersports Wonderland.

Back in the old days, her and her team could practically fly through the traps and surprises that Barclay and some others peppered the old waterpark with. This lot could barely make it to the parking lot without some desperate adventure. That. Had. To change.

Mama didn’t have the time, energy, or inclination to keep sweeping up after these idiots. She didn’t have a lot more miles on the clock, so to speak, before the inevitable breakdown. She couldn’t let them continue in the half-assed manner that they’d been doing.

They stood before her in an outright parody of a military parade. The reluctant hero, the liar, and the mage. All with their merits. All with their flaws.

She had to get them to a level of competency before she bit the big one.

“Duck,” she said. “How’s your lyin’ practice?”

“Well, I gotta tell you, I’ve been talking to my mirror and-- fuck. I’ve been sorta... rehearsin’ in the show--fuck. No. I can’t do it. I just can’t do it.”

Ned fucking Chicane, on the other hand, could make a scientist agree that the sky was green. That wasn’t his problem. His problem was taking too many fucking risks and landing in the hospital. That, and gambling too much.

Aubrey was doing great at learning magic, but she had all the focus capabilities of a kitten in a discotheque. If she didn’t have crazy bad ADHD, then Mama would be as blue as the summer sky.

They needed a special kind of help. Fortunately, Mama had learned to come prepared. “Duck,” she said, digging into one of her many pockets. “You’re the closest thing this team has to a figure of authority. We could work with that if only you could lie worth half a darn.”

“I’m sorry. It’s just against my nature. I keep fuckin’ it up...”

“Well,” she took out the bracelet. “I want you to remember from now on, What would Ned Chicane say?” and she put the letter bracelet around his wrist. It was one of those hobby shop ones with the lettered beads, and the five initials were WWNCS. “See if that’ll help you.”

She moved on to Aubrey, who was playing with a small mote of fire, running it in a slalom pattern around her fingertips. “Aubrey... you’re getting very strong in the magic department, but you need serious help with your foc-- Aubrey!”

“Huh?”

“You need help maintaining focus,” said Mama. “Y’all got a favourite kind of fidget?”

“Uh. Actually... plastic and I don’t get along. I wasted a lot of money on those things and they just melted after like a couple of days.”

Thought so, Mama took out a ring made out of interlocked parts. “This one’s a little tougher than the plastic ones. Meteoric iron and high-tempered steel. Try it out.”

Aubrey put it on the index finger of her left hand and twiddled at it with her thumb. “Holy shit,” she murmured. “Holy shit...”

Last, but not least, Ned Chicane.

“I don’t think there’s anything in that black duster for me,” he said.

Mama offered him her hand. “Five bucks says you don’t make it through without a scratch.”

He grinned. “You’re on.”

The challenges set out for them on the obstacle course within Watersports Wonderland were physical, mental, and co-operative. Mama watched via the minicams Barclay had set up so she didn’t have to chase after them all. They were doing it! They were collaborating. In the case of Duck Newton, he was prevaricating!

Sure, he was establishing a scaffold of half-truths, but he was getting there. Baby steps. Ned was taking sensible precautions. Aubrey was even in the moment. It was working. It was all working.

A ghostly blue light in a vaguely humanoid form shimmered into her peripheral vision. Mama knew better than to turn and try to look. “They’re getting there, Minnie. At fucking last, they’re getting there.”


	66. Reader Request #10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> revolvingidentitty said:  
> How does the first meeting between Angus and Kravitz go post- or during canon, do you think?

It didn’t take the world’s greatest detective to figure out that something was up with Taako. The rest of the Reclaimers were dealing with the aftermath of Refuge, but Taako was more chipper than he had ever been. He was smiling a lot more for no apparent reason. His step was lighter.

Even more peculiar was the fact that people swore they heard Taako humming. The Elf who swore nobody would catch him singing...  _humming._  

It didn’t take the world’s greatest detective to notice, but Angus McDonald did it anyway. Since he was tasked with being the special Seeker for the Reclaimers, he took it on himself to discover what had gotten under Taako’s skin. Which didn’t take long because -duh- world’s greatest detective.

Taako was arm in arm with someone. Smiling and laughing and apparently fascinated with what this someone in black had to say. All the body language they had practically shouted that they were deeply into each other. They even kissed.

Oh.

Taako had a  _boyfriend._  That was an interesting revelation. He wasn’t exactly being discreet about it, but he also wasn’t shouting it from the rooftops. His business should remain his business.

Except...

Angus remembered one wine-soaked evening when Taako got crying drunk and went on an extensive diatribe about his bad luck with men. He always chose the pretty assholes, he said. The lovely ones that left him, after stealing everything they could from him. It had devolved into an off-key rendition of  _Rainbow Connection_  with the words changed to include the refrain, “The liars, the cheaters, an’ meeeee...”

Given historic precedent, it was safe to assume that this sartorial stranger was going to do something horrible to Taako at some point, whether or not the Elf deserved it. Sure, they were happy  _now_  but the gloss was doomed to come off of that gingerbread, given Taako’s extensive past.

So Angus followed the stranger, keeping himself from Taako’s notice as they strolled together in the pink haze of fresh love.

It was when they finally bade each other a good night that Angus made himself known. Unfortunately, this also happened as the stranger transformed into a black-robed skeleton.

Angus tried Hold Person, but it didn’t do much. 

The skeleton transformed back into a very handsome man and asked, “What the hell are you playing at, kid?”

He still had his wand out, running through the list of spells he could reliably perform and idly wondering if skeletons were vulnerable to piercing damage. He could easily guess that they weren’t. “I’m not afraid of you,” he lied. “If you tried anything against--” shit. Words. Taako hadn’t exactly formalised what kind of deal they had together. “--my mentor... I’ll fight you.”

An elegant eyebrow raised. “It would be a short fight. Do you even know what you’re planning on fighting?”

He couldn’t keep the tremble out of his voice. “You’re a l-lich in d-d-disguise. You w-www-want the G-grand relics and you’re using Taako to g-get them.”

The puzzled expression softened. “I’m no lich. I’m a Reaper.” He summoned a scythe with the Raven Queen’s emblem on it. “I hunt down liches and bring them to judgement.” The scythe vanished into the pocket dimension from whence it had come.

Angus wasn’t convinced. “You could be using illusions to do all that.”

“True,” allowed the stranger. “I could. Consider this counter-argument... If I was evil, I would have zero trouble with hurting or killing you because you were in my way. This is a very foolish way to approach someone you think of as a threat, young sir.”

Belatedly, Angus remembered Rule Five - don’t get into the middle of a fight. Taako would be incensed that Angus had forgotten that one. Glass cannons, he repeatedly said, have no business being in the middle of a battlefield. He was too used to having the Rockport City Watch backing him up, or being under the watchful eye of one of the other Bureau staff members. He was so used to never being alone that he had forgotten that he actually was alone.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” said the stranger, and offered his hand. “My name’s Kravitz, and I promise that I would never deliberately harm Taako.”

Insight check - nat twenty. He was honest. He was truthful. All the same, “What’s your real goal here, please?”

“My goal?” Kravitz laughed. “I... I want to enjoy as much time with Taako as I can. Nothing more. He’s... incredible. Unbelievable. He’s...”

“An ass?” suggested Angus.

“Yes, that too. And I love him anyway.”

Well. Okay. “I’m still keeping an eye on you, sir.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from Taako’s star pupil. It was nice meeting you, Angus McDonald.”

Wait. How?

“I’m the Grim Reaper. I know everyone’s name.”

*

On the next date, as they were sitting and watching an amazing sunset, Kravitz said, “Met your kid.”

“Huh?” said Taako, and winced at the banality.

“Well. Your student, protege, or apprentice. What’s the word for it, these days?”

“Angus fucking McDonald? You met that brat?”

“I didn’t know his middle name was ‘fucking’... but yes. He threatened to fight me if I was out to hurt you.”

“Cute, pointless, and a complete reversal on Rule Five. I’m gonna have to give him extra drills f’r that.” Taako considered the actual implications for a second. “Did he win?”

Kravitz had the most wonderful smile. “I managed to defuse the situation with logic and reason,” he said. “He’s making sure I don’t hurt you.”

Gods. That was so fucking adorable that Taako wanted to hurl. Of course, Taako couldn’t say as much out loud. “Eh, babies get attached to the weirdest things...”


	67. Nonny Request #53

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> May I request Taako teach Angus how to build a cote? Papa teaching his baby how to make his first nest? I felt like it'd be pretty cute. Or Teen Ango getting into his first fight at school? He's a young half elf, but everyones buttons get pushed now and again. Thank you so much for reading this, and I appreciate your work!

Angus had no idea how it happened, but he woke up in the middle of some scrubby forest with no idea where he was or how to get home. He was in a very comfy sleeping bag and Papa was lounging nearby.

“Morning, pumpkin,” he cooed. “It’s survival lesson time.”

He sat up. There was no sign of any other camping gear. “What?” he mumbled. “What’s going on?”

“Every child should learn how to make it if the worst happens. Honestly, with all the folderol with adoption, I was kind’a scared to start. Still am, tee bee haitch, but I can’t let any kid of mine wander this wild world without at least a few basics.”

Angus rubbed his eyes. “Really?”

“We survived a raid on my village and then a raid on the survivors’ caravan, sweetie. If we hadn’t had lessons like this, we would have died at age twelve. Lucky for you we didn’t. Someday, all this will be lucky for someone else.”

Well. Put it like that way. Papa knew for certain that life had ways of throwing mud at you at the worst possible time. Therefore, he paid attention. There were worse things in life than being in a shitty orphanage. “What’s lesson one, Papa?”

“Priorities,” was the answer. “Food, water, shelter. What do you look for first?”

It was a day of lessons. Those very priorities were in the order of water, shelter, then food. Followed by a near encyclopaedic knowledge of which wild foods were edible more than once. As the sun began to dip down in the sky, Papa showed him the Shelter part of the survival trinity. How to build a cote.

“If you can’t find an abandoned badger burrow or a cave, building a cote is your next best thing. These are temporary shelters, here, so you don’t wanna be too elaborate. Start with a tree where you can move some branches around. Make it tricky for any predators.”

It was weaving, in a way. Weaving the living branches into a sort of skeleton for any uprooted saplings or long reeds or tall grasses they managed to find. The real trick was thinning out the brush without picking an area clean. That sort of thing would lead the  _intelligent_  predators to realise that someone was nearby.

The best cote, of course, was one that was tricky to get into. If it was tricky for the Elf - or half-elf - who made it, then it would be even trickier for anyone out after them. The green brush used to make it would be near perfect camouflage in a dense enough tree, especially if it was high up in the canopy.

Papa helped him make a cote just big enough for two, and showed him how to make a door to seal it off. By that time, it was well past dark, and their use of magic added tiny lights to the interior.

For a structure made of bent branches, saplings, and grass, it was astonishingly comfortable. Angus slid into a meditative trance knowing that his Papa was watching over him.

Lesson two, the next morning, was learning how to find civilisation. That was how Angus learned that their impromptu camp site was an extensive vacant lot within half a days’ walk of the farmhouse.

Where Dad was waiting with a celebratory feast, Aunt Lup and Uncle Barry.

“No probs, dingus?” Aunt Lup shouted.

“Of course not, goofus,” Papa shouted back. “He’s a fucking  _genius.”_

It had never occurred to Angus that Papa could have possibly been worried. Not until that moment. The concept was re-enforced when Aunt Lup gave Papa a noogie and said, “I  _told_  you he’d be fine.”

Dad had been worried, too. Angus could tell by the way Dad swept him up and covered him in kisses and said how proud he was. They’d both been worried about the absolute worst that could happen. Neither of them said so, but Angus could tell.

They’d be less worried, next time. With every lesson, there would be less and less to worry about.


	68. Nonny Request #54

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> I know in one of your requests Agatha adopts a baby gnome, but, what happens if that baby was only kidnapped, they have parents? I read that there could be an answering fic to it, but could or would it answer this question? Thank you for taking the time to read and answer this

As part of procedure, to be certain of Ella’s health, they took a drop of her blood and ran it through every scrying test they could. That was how they found out that she had a genetic family as well as an adopted one.

Bad news: Luume’irma adoptions are lifelong.

A compromise had to be reached. Which was why the core elements of the family were gathered in a rather large meeting room. ‘Core elements’ in this case meant the following: genetic parents, siblings of the genetic parents, and genetic grandparents of the child. In echo to this were Angus and Agatha, Taako, Lup, Kravitz and Barry. It was not an even match, even with Ango’s kids playing quietly in a corner.

Gnomes may be small, but their families were  _huge._

Ella looked normal sized in her birth mother’s arms, and had little to contribute to the proceedings. First, because she was a literal baby, and second, because she was fast asleep.

“Don’t get us wrong,” said the proud father of Ella. “It’s a good thing that you rescued her, it’s just... She’s  _ours.”_

“My daughter-in-law is biologically compelled to be certain of Ella’s health and wellbeing,” said Taako. “It’s nobody’s fault that this happened. I’m just asking... can we... maybe share?”

“I would guard her with my life,” said Agatha in all seriousness.

“We have a Mountain Ygdrassi for a home,” said Angus. “There’s more than enough room for your entire burrow. In the mountain, in the walls, in the roots... Your whole clan could move in and little would change.”

“You’re suggesting,” said the Grandmother, “That we uproot an entire burrow of four hundred and seventy-three Gnomes,”

“Four hundred and seventy-four,” corrected Ella’s mother. “We got her back.”

“The  _entire_  family,” said the Grandmother, “and move into an Elf tree that’s likely thousands of years old.”

“There’s loads of room,” said Lup. “Some of us have cohabited with a Gnome before. We can help... ease the adjustment process.”

“Plus I always cook way too much food,” added Taako. “The old place needs more people like fish need water.”

The Gnomish siblings conferred. The murmuring went on for an extended time, but the repeated argument among many was, “Well, it’d be better than letting  _them_  come to  _us.”_

That was the one that finally won the day.

“Taaco family... you have gained yourself a clan of Strongburrows.”

Agatha said, “Strongburrow family... you have gained yourself some Taacos.”

It would take months, some magic, and an over-use of Garyl to move four hundred and seventy-five Gnomes (another one was born during the move) into the farmhouse, but it was worth it. The labyrinthine complex of halls, rooms, tunnels and caverns hadn’t sounded so alive in half a millennium.

It wasn’t a smooth transition. Elves, half-elves, Humans and the technically undead had to get used to the bustle of an entire clan of Gnomes. The Gnomes, in turn, had to get used to the sometimes peculiar habits of Elves. It wasn’t easy, but then again, life never was.


	69. Nonny Request #55

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> I'm gonna go out on a very far limb and suggest some Taakitz & Blupjeans New Years + Luume? Maybe some Angus & Agatha if you're down.
> 
> [AN: I did promise that these would be PG, so all the sexytimes will be faded-to-black]

It was late, and the snow was all around, blanketing the landscape in white. Well. Except for the tracks where the residents of the farmhouse and nearby village had tamped snow into the moulds that gave Sellsnow Farm its old name.

The hour was late, but that was because the family was up in the upper chambers to watch the Sheepsford fireworks display. The nearby Dwarves and Gnomes competed with the local Humans in putting on the brightest and most impressive fireworks display to ring in the new year.

Kravitz kept by Taako’s side, and Barry was by Lup’s. The twins held hands as they sat on the viewing platform, underneath a huge amount of insulating layers and thick, padded quilts that they shared with their spouses.

Nobody mentioned how ridiculous the Elves looked in their winter ear socks. Elves already knew, they just pretended that they weren’t. Looking ridiculous and pretending they didn’t was way better than -say- freezing their ears off.

The first pops of the opening salvos began ten minutes before midnight, filling the sky with starbursts. Kravitz gasped as the bursts of bright colour reached their current elevation.

“You were right, Dove,” he said, “Better than front row seats.”

Taako was purring as he pulled Kravitz closer under the blankets. “Nice,” he said, and, “Mate.”

_Uh oh..._

Lup and Barry were deep into it. Not just necking but jawing and shouldering as well.

Kravitz couldn’t pay attention to them. He had a gorgeous Elf in his face. Sliding too-warm hands into Kravitz’s clothes, smooching at his neck and getting further and further into his space.

Not that he wanted to complain...

Too much.

Kravitz leaned into it and started kissing him back.

*

New year’s day is traditionally greeted as late as possible, often with hushed voices of regret. This was no different for the twins.

“Mmmnnnnggghhh... Ow.”

“Fuck, it’s freezing...”

A heap of blankets and winter clothing stirred, an one golden head peeked out. “Shit. It’s dawn,” said Lup.

“Whose ass is that?” mumbled Kravitz.

“Depends,” said Barry, “Whose hand is that?”

“...ow,” whimpered Taako. “...’d we miss New Years?”

Kravitz’s head emerged from the pile. “’S dawn,” he mumbled. “Guess we did.”

“Had fun anyway, right?” Lup yawned and stretched, then yelped and burrowed back into the warmth of her husband.

Somewhere in the middle of the pile, Barry said, “Absolutely, babe.”


	70. Nonny Request  #56

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Can we see Angus reacting to Taako completely forgetting him?? Maybe Taako got hit or lost his memories in winderland?👍

Once again, Taako got dragged back to the Bureau offices feet first. Unconscious, and apparently unmarked this time. No-one had gone after the team Glass Cannon with anything  _physically_  damaging. Though that was not always a good thing.

_Listen, Agnes,_  Taako had said during one of their training sessions.  _You can hit a wizard with the hit point drains and be wasting your time if the team have a competent healer. If you really want to harm a wizard, go after their noggin._

Angus worried. Magnus and Merle had no idea what Taako got hit with. Apparently, he touched one of the stones whilst announcing that they didn’t need Angus to solve the puzzle. Then he went down like a sack of bricks.

According to the Bureau Clerics, he wasn’t in any physical danger. Someone had messed with his dome, but that was all they could tell. He would wake up when it ran its course, and it was too late for Counterspell to be effective. They just had to ride this one out. 

It was a very stressful hour for Angus. Wondering exactly what Taako had lost, or how permanent it could be. Nevertheless, he was ‘just resting his eyes’ when the fabulous flipwizard opened his.

“Hey, pumpkin. I’m sure I told the innkeep not to let in visitors. Anxious to see the next show? Or are you hoping to get ahead of the autograph queue?”

“Show?” echoed Angus.

“My show, of course. Why else would you be here?” He took in his surroundings. “This isn’t the Blue Lion Inn...”

Angus decided to get the facts out there. “Sir, you had an accident. Something messed with your brain and... do you know where you are, sir?”

“Uuuhhhhh... some kind’a healing hospice? The decor’s terrible so it has to be an institution. I didn’t do anything... awful did I? Wait. Did I steal you at some point? Is that why you’re here?”

“No, sir, I’m a student of yours. And a co-worker.”

Laughter. “Like I’d work with a literal child. Where’s Saze? He can clear this up. I’m sure we’ll all laugh at this later but I can’t--” he made to get up and realised that he was in a shitty hospital gown and little else. “--think... of... when.”

“Sazed isn’t here, sir.” Angus pressed the call button. Trying not to flinch at every time Taako used his Polite To Strangers Smile on him. One of Angus’ other lessons was faking geniality when the mood was just not there. He knew all the signs of a smiling mask.

Taako was acting at being friendly. Putting on a show for the audience who was currently Angus. He could see it in his mentor’s eyes. Taako didn’t have a single shit to give about Angus.

That... stung.

Taako had a kind of casual, it’s-a-tough-world cruelty, but it was edged with a peculiar form of caring that was unique. It was like he could sense right when Angus was about to crumble and held him up for that one last eureka moment that made all the roughness beforehand worth it. Or when Angus was just about to fall off the mental edge and held him safe by the metaphorical belt loops.

Here and now, he was being casually nice. The kind of niceness that had the traditional Taako subtext of,  _I don’t expect to ever see you again so it doesn’t really matter what I say or do; but since my income depends on repeat business, I’m deigning to be nice to you._  Which was kind of a lot to pack into a telegenically gentle smile and the posture of a stage actor.

“Did you check the supplies cart? He’s taken to lurking in there. I should probably hurry and get my clothes back, it’s thirty-clove garlic chicken tonight.”

Oh. Oh shit. Oh no. He was... he was back into the day before the fateful last show of  _Sizzle it Up! With Taako._  “No sir. Your... your supplies cart isn’t here, either.”

Genuine worry and concern. “When you said ‘accident’...”

Make it quick. Like ripping off a self-adhesive medical strip. “Sir, your show ended seven years ago in Glamour Springs when forty people died.” Angus braced himself as his mentor’s mismatched eyes were the only things that showed his inner pain. “Sazed put arsenic into your forty-clove garlic chicken, sir. When he confessed just last year, he said he wanted to just make you sick, but the forty deaths could have been spun in his favour. He’s serving a life sentence in Hell’s Maw Prison, sir.”

If there was a worse moment for Lup to burst into the room, it was right at this second, when Taako’s world was falling into ash all over again. Did he remember his sister? How fragmented were his memories, right now?

Angus said, “Please be careful, ma’am,” but didn’t get much further.

Taako was looking dizzy. Confounded. He was hit with a confusion curse. His memories were intact, but they were jumbled. Messed up. Possibly made worse by the voidfish’s influence and then the removal of their influence on the Day of Story and Song.

“You,” said Taako. Tears fell down his face. “You left me.”

Lup showed remarkable restraint and adaptivity. “Didn’t mean to be gone so long,” she said. “I got... trapped. Then I got out. I had to come find you.” All accurate statements, but not the complete chain of cause and effect. She noticed Angus and said, “You okay, kiddo?”

“I can be okay,” he managed.

Taako was fighting a vortex of dizziness. “Did... Did I adopt him or something?”

“Close enough,” said Lup. “He lives with you and--”

“You also got married,” said Angus.

“To... Sazed?” Taako wondered.

Angus said it along with Lup. The exact words. “What? No! Fuck  _him...”_

Taako was looking at his hands. He found the wedding band, which was silver and set with sapphires. “Married,” he said. “With a kid.”

Another figure entered the room. A rushed and flustered Kravitz.

“Well, hell-o, stranger,” Taako cooed. “I’d tell you to sit by my side, but I’m married, apparently. Pity. You’re exactly my type, there, handsome.”

Kravitz ran the entire gamut of possible emotions in less than a second. He finally said, “Dove... you married  _me.”_  To prove it, he showed his left hand, and the gold ring set with dark aquamarine gemstones.

Taako appraised the sparkle. “Damn. Lucky you, huh?”

It was too much. Taako had lost everything all over again, with no idea how good his life was these days. He didn’t know what he’d gained but, thankfully, had a shaky grasp on what he’d lost in the time he thought he was still in. All that progress towards becoming a decent intelligent being... gone.

All those times that Taako had lovingly taunted Angus for accidentally calling him ‘dad’. Taako didn’t remember them. Taako didn’t remember the real friends he’d made, the love he’d found. The love he’d learned to share. Gone.

Including all the love he’d chosen to share with Angus.

He didn’t know he was crying until Taako started cooing insincerely.

“Aaaw. Aaaw. It’s gonna be okay, pumpkin. It ain’t all bad, is it? It ain’t  _all_  bad...”

“...feels like it,” Angus managed.

Taako said, “Need a hug?”

Angus fell into his arms. Wishing he could somehow use that hug to heal Taako right there and then.

“He really adopted me, huh?” said Taako.

“Yeah, pretty much,” said Lup. “None of us can figure out why he loves you.”

Angus let Taako hold him and pet his hair. Wishing the displayed affection was real.

“I gotta work out how to get my me back,” decided Taako. “Don’t fret, little man. We’re gonna figure shit out. My sister’s the smartest geek in any room.”


	71. Reader Request #10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dualityandsuch said:  
> backpack for his applesauce. backpack where he keeps his applesauce. JAA'M'S GOT THE APPLESAUCE THAT YOU CRAVE!! ...everybody catch his juicy jaa'm wave. thank you

This had to be one of the weirdest cycles they had ever had the misfortune to live in. There were semi-intelligent creatures, but they all looked like weird conglomerations of lumps with random features attached.

Worse, communication was nearly impossible. They could scavenge fruits and hunt meat, but getting along with the natives was... weird.

“This lot,” Taako threw up an illusion of a blobby pink thing with too much in the way of lips and arms improbably thrown onto their head, “are called  _Jaa’m._  Don’t ask why. This whole system was made by some truly malevolent creator.”

“They only do applesauce,” said Lup. “And you gotta dance to get it. Like... their dance? Which is so lame that even Barold would be embarrassed to do it.”

“...hey,” objected Barry.

“It’s true, Barold,” said Taako. “This is beyond mortifying.”

“Did you  _get_  the applesauce?” demanded Davenport.

Lup started unloading bags of it. Actual bags. There were no glass jars, nor bottles, nor anything that would make sense to put applesauce in. Just. Bags. Bags for the applesauce that their Captain craved.

Davenport opened a bag and just dug in there with a spoon. “Ho yeah... that’s the stuff.”

“This... this is the nightmare scenario,” mumbled Lucretia.

“So...” said Magnus, valiantly ignoring Cap’n’port and his weird cycle-specific addiction. “Any signs of intelligent life? Or of the Light?”

“Trust me broceph,” said Taako, “I think this reality might be better off for us  _not_  finding it.”

For once, Lup was silent about pulling the trigger on an entire civilisation. She was having doubts as to whether this one counted.


	72. Nonny Request #57

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> I'm not sure where else to ask since Tumblr us, well yes. We have the others Angus and Agatha getting married first kiss and such. Can I request the mission Angus proposed to Agatha, they were on a mission as newlyweds. Thank you so mucb!

This week’s big bad was preying on wealthy newlyweds, hijacking wedding jewellery and any other valuables. When they weren’t kidnapping the most affluent member of the pair for ransom.

There were suspicions of Dark Magic happening to those who didn’t earn the ransom. They were certainly never seen again. Not alive, for sure.

This band had a type. They liked the younger couples, and the wealthier, the better. Therefore, the Bureau of Benevolence picked Angus and Agatha as the ideal team to be bait.

Agatha looked splendid - better than splendid - in the dress they had found for her. Angus rather fancied he looked spectacular in the suit he wore. Their luggage was loaded with the right kind of jewellery and they booked the most expensive Honeymoon Suite. They talked loudly of expensive plans as part of a Faerun-wide tour, as they checked in.

It was easy to act like he was ridiculously in love with Agatha, since he was. It was fun to kiss and be goopy in each other’s general direction without any comments from the peanut gallery - otherwise known as Tres Horny Boys.

The suite was amazing. Room service and wine and laughter together as they watched Fantasy Pay-Per-View together in bed.

It was the fifteenth kiss that did it for him. Angus made a decision.

“I can’t wait to do something like this for real,” he said.

“Theft and potential murder aren’t real enough for you?” she teased.

He had to laugh. “I mean I’d love it if you’d marry me, Agatha Tremaine.” He circled the fake engagement ring around on her finger. “I’ll get you a real one as soon as we’re done here. First thing.”

“Gosh, this is so sudden,” she said, quizzaciously sarcastic. “Nothing at all like the other times.”

“You didn’t say ‘no’,” he said. “You always said stuff like, ‘really.  _Now?’_  and didn’t give me an answer.”

She leaned up on her elbow. “I’m going to have to answer you or keep facing this question, aren’t I?”

“That would be ideal,” he purred.

She kissed him. “Fine. Yes. I’d love to make our partnership official.” They sealed the deal with an extensive make-out session. Which was, unfortunately, interrupted by the hotel staff who were the theft/kidnapping ring.

Those idiots were immediately and instantly trounced.


	73. Reader Request #11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Neondragon54 asked:
> 
> Aw this was really cute.  
>  If you’re still doing requests could you do a fluffy modern day one with Taako and Kravitz.

The old house was huge, made for generations. It creaked in the wind and a good eighty percent of it needed fixing up, but it was _theirs._ Sure, their grandfather's estate had taken a seeming age to track them down, but the old farm was theirs now.

Taako from TV, actual homeowner. He'd spent a literal lifetime in spaces no larger than a caravan or an inn bedroom. He had no idea what to do with an entire fucking house. Therefore, he leaned over to murmur into Krav's ear, "Tell me you know what to do with one of these?"

Krav smiled in that way that said he was even deeper in love than formerly. "I can think of more than a few improvements," he allowed. "How much of this is structurally sound, Dove?"

Taako shrugged and made the _I dunno_ noise.

An affectionate glare. "You're already planning to sleep over in there, aren't you?"

"Listen. The rest of the family pretty much ran this old place into the ground until like a decade ago," he said. "I mean, how much rot could creep in during ten years?"

Krav said, "Well, if they were running it into the ground... we should really call in Magnus..."

One quick phone call later, half the old crew of the Starblaster were doing things around the dilapidated near-ruin that had once been the twins' grandfather's home. Most of the structure was still sound, made of old, dense oak so laden with laquers and varnishes that no woodworm could hope to make a dent, but the floorboards and walls were on the flimsy side. The old wood hadn't been polished like it should have been, and most of it was dried out and frail. Magnus was overjoyed to do a complete remodel on the old place.

Fortunately, this was one of those places that had sort of grown organically from a central shelter like a nautillus, and there was one minimalistic kitchen in part of the cellar - buried under random old junk that the family had ignored - and just enough accommodations for a small family. If they didn't mind camping out in cramped facilities.

* * *

 

 

Some say the true test of love is the first child. Some say it is the first crisis. Taako and Kravitz both held that their test of love was remodelling an old generation house with the entire adopted family staying over for the duration. Just one exposure to Merle making a seduction roll to obtain planking was more than enough to put a sensible being off of anything at all. Watching the Starblaster crew perform synchronised ablutions in the tiny, temporary bathroom was an amazing thing. The ship had had, according to Taako, made do with smaller.

Watching the twins cook in eerie silence was another experience that Kravitz had to get used to. They had been living in each other's pockets so long that they knew how to cook together as if they were one being. The years that they had been forcibly separated had vanished, as did the vague clumsiness he had had when he was alone. Kravitz fought a little surge of jealousy at the closeness they had all developed.

He didn't have to be alone amongst the many. Taako had decided to marry him and that meant sharing his life, his family, and the extended lunacy that was the shared crew. He could learn how to be part of all this. Dear gods, how he _wanted_ to be part of all this.

Taako looked adorable with his long, golden hair up in a bun and under a kerchief. He had about an equal amount of experience with woodworking and home repairs as his husband and were working together on the 'apprentice stuff' under Magnus' supervision. Kravitz put his hair up under a similar situation, and kept up as best he could. Taako's eyes were distracting. They kept trapping his attention and making him smile.

"Hey, love birds," called Magnus. "Focus. This is your house. You can go christen it later."

Floor by floor, plank by plank... on their knees, but not for the normal reason newlyweds might be on their knees, they brought the old house back to better than its former glory. For starters, it had a better floor plan and safer stuff to make it out of. The best part was the proper kitchen. The reserve one they started with became a guest suite they could rent if they wanted.

It was in that kitchen that Taako started teaching Kravitz how to cook. Arms wrapped around him, delicious aromas wafting forth. The feeling of Taako fast against him and the melody of Taako's voice in his ear. It was easy to imagine a whole life together like that.

It was something of a shock to him that the whole Starblaster crew moved in when the old house was done. Good thing the house was big enough for multiple families.


	74. Reader Request #12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kiwibite2 said:  
> Could we see more of domestic life with the strongburrows and the taccos? Maybe some of the goofs that comes with the early stages of integrating two cultures?

Taako stumbled out of bed to make his morning dose of caffeine to find that about a dozen Gnomes were inhabiting the Aga. Three of them were cooking, but the rest were examining the entire rig.

Thank the gods that the coffeemaker was on a tall shelf out of their immediate reach. “Somethin’ I can help y'all with, my dears?” He set the kettle onto a hotplate.

“Where are the controls?” said a spokesGnome. “What if we want to make it faster?”

“Listen,” said Taako. “It’s an  _Aga._  It doesn’t  _have_  controls. It has specific heat areas. If you want fast food, my sister’s pretty zippy on the old hotplate. I cook  _cuisine,_  my friend. That’s worth the wait.”

The Gnomes all looked at each other. There was a small conference.

“We could make it so you could hard-boil an egg in less than a minute,” they offered.

“Sure, you  _could,”_  Taako said. “But it would be the shittiest hard-boiled egg you’ve ever eaten. Trust a five-star chef. Some ovens don’t need min-maxing.”

“By the way,” said one of the Gnomes at floor level. “You might want to at least put undies on when you’re out in your nightshirt. The view from down here ain’t complimentary.”

* * *

 

There apparently was a coffee room, now. Lup squinted at the machine dominating three quarters of it and mumbled, “Izzat our coffee machine?”

“What is it with you Elves and not wearing underwear?”

“It’s fuck off inna morning. Coffee before pants,” Lup yawned and stretched. “D’z that make coffee or izzit gonna go boom?”

“One way to find out!”

“Millennia-old tree house, babe...”

Too late. The lever thrown, the machine rumbled into life with the kind of bass thrum that makes a body uncomfortable with its place in the universe, especially considering the relative distances between itself and the closest privy.

Steam hissed. Gears ground. Water bubbled through a percolator. A distinctive smell issued forth as a liquid black as night poured into a carafe.

Lup shambled towards it. “Coffee...”

“Uh. You might wanna be careful, that’s  _Gnomish_  coffee.”

Lup chugged down a cup. “HELL-lo! That’s got some fuckin’ KICK!”

Concerned Gnomes stared at each other. “You sure you’re all right, there, dear?”

“YEAHI’MFINE, THANKSFORASKING, I’MGONNAGOPUTONSOMECLOTHES, ANDGETTHECOBWEBSOUTTATHERAFTERS. WELL. TALLCEILINGYPARTS. HEYBARRYYAGOTTATRYTHISSHIT, IT’STOTALLYBOMB!”

Barry, by comparison, was  _only_  wearing underwear and wisely watered his coffee down by a significant portion. “I’ll get her to help shape the new branches. That aughta help her calm down.”

“Y- She’s immune...?”

Shrug. “As immune as an Elf can get. Century with each others’ coffee can get you used to  _anything.”_

* * *

 

“I want to see my baby girl,” cooed Agatha.

“Here she comes,” said Tilwyn Strongburrow.

Ella laughed and gurgled, kicking in anticipation. For her and her alone, it would be completely normal to have a half-Elven co-mother as part of the family. There would be comfort and security in a half-Elf’s arms and rest achieved by the steady purr.

She alone would find it perfectly normal to be nuzzled by creatures twice her size, and have siblings that weren’t related to her at all.

It was the  _rest_  of the family that would have to get used to cuddle puddles in or out of a cote made for the purpose.


	75. Reader Request #13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dualityandsuch said:  
> Give Susan’s son a redemption arc via getting taught how to be a decent person while the Taacos babysit him. (Forgot to send this last night :P)

There are children whose destiny it is to have their names pronounced in italics. When people are talking about them, they roll their eyes, scoff, and mutter things like, “Ugh,  _Darren,”_  or,  _“Karie?_  That little asshole...” If they survive to maturity, one might guess that they grow out of it. One may even hope that they become decent intelligent beings.

Taako knows one of those kids, and his name is  _Jason._  He’s exactly that kind of kid that anyone might love to hate. He was, to use the kindest words, obnoxious, annoying, gross, and a spoiled brat. Most of this was because his mother, Susan, was the kind of person who saw  _Jason_  through rose-tinted glasses until five days after she met Taako.

_Jason_  is also on Taako’s doorstep with a confused expression, a suitcase, and a note pinned to his shirt. To realise how pathetic it is, one might also have to be informed that he is also three years older than Angus McDonald, world’s greatest detective and all-around actual genius.

Taako, at this stage of “too early in the morning” (aka 8AM), was tressed in a large T-shirt that reached his knees and literally nothing else. He still had the twin braids he put his hair up in for sleep, and eighty percent of his morning coffee. He glared blearily at  _Jason_  and said, “The fuck are you doing here?”

“The fuck if I know,” said  _Jason_  sullenly. He stopped picking his nose to poke at the envelope pinned to his sweater. “This is for you.”

Taako gingerly removed it with Mage Hand and stared at the unfolded paper. “Mmmmnnngh.” He turned away from the door. “Ba-a-a-abe? Can you read this? My eyes literally can’t focus on Susan’s horrible handwriting!”

Angus McDonald bounced into the scene like a peppy living advertisement for some miracle antidepressant and said, “I can read it, sir.”

Taako handed it over and said, “Mazel tov,” then slouched into a corner and slurped at his coffee.

Angus translated. “It says here that Mrs Hackniid has had a family emergency that’ll keep her from looking after  _Jason,_  sir. She needs her attention undivided for up to three months, and is therefore leaving her son in your capable hands.”

“Fucking what?”

“Capable hands, sir. Her exact words.” Angus pointed to the place where they were written. “She says she knows you’re the best person available because you’re fostering me and running a school.”

“More fool her,” said Taako, who had reached the ‘not yet’ indicator on his coffee mug. “Sucks to be you, kid. You’ve been abandoned.”

“Sir! This is no time for goofs...”

“Come on. Three months is the perfect time window for a clean get-away. New location, new identity papers, new bank account, all of it. Even you’d have a hard time tracking her down with a three months’ lead.”

_Jason_  started with the crocodile tears.

“Ugh, shut the fuck up. Suck it in. Deal with it yourself because literally nobody else cares.”

He turned off his wailing and gnashing of teeth off like it was on tap. That had always worked before... but then again, his mother had always been around to be angry at people until he got what he wanted. “What?” he said. “When my mom finds out.”

“If,” corrected Taako.

“I’m sure he’s goofing,” said Angus. “Come pick up your bag, and I’ll show you to one of the guest rooms.”

“You want me to do what now?” said  _Jason._

That was lesson one: do it yourself.

* * *

 

Lesson Two.

_Jason_  awoke with the sun in his eyes and a rock under his butt. The discomfort alone was enough to startle him mostly upright. He was in the middle of nowhere. No hint of how he got there and just himself and the sleeping bag he was bundled in.

And Taako, nestled in the crook of a tree and wearing hardy adventuring gear.

“Shit’s hit the fan, homie. Tell me the most important thing you need to survive.”

He took a deep breath. “MOMMEEEEEEEEEE!”

“Cute, but no chocolate cigar. Your mom isn’t going to be around for your whole life. The sooner you know the important stuff, the better off you’ll be.”

“What’s so important about  _camping?”_  he argued.

“This isn’t camping, buckaroo. This is survival lessons. And eff why eye, my sister and I had to cope without our mom since we were twelve. Nobody cared about our sad tale, and I could care less about yours. Answer the quiz. What do you need to survive?”

_Jason_  threw a tantrum, tearing up the sleeping bag and throwing rocks and sticks in any direction. He ripped leafs off of branches, punched at trees and screamed and screamed and  _screamed_  while he kicked and punched at anything in reach.

Taako was unimpressed. Cleaning his fingernails until  _Jason_  wound down.

“You’re not helping,” he whined.

“I’ll help when you’re ready to learn, kid.”

“I hate you.”

“Mutual,” said Taako, still cleaning his nails.

He sat and sulked, watching a tiny bug make its way across the bare earth. He was too tired to bother squashing it. “I’m thirsty,” he whined.

“So... whaddaya need?” prompted Taako.

“I need some wine.”

“Wine’s the advanced classes, hombre. You’re still on the Primer. ‘Sides, you don’t really need wine.”

“That’s not what my mom says,” said  _Jason._

“I’m shocked,” said Taako. “Come on. What do you actually  _need?”_

_Jason_  actually took a moment to think. It hurt his dome piece. “I need something to drink. Like wine or small ale or cider or hot chocolate or milk or juice.”

“Or...?” added Taako.

“Or what?”

“Or the most basic drink there is. Falls out of the sky. You can bathe in it. You can even find fish in it.”

“You want me to drink  _water?”_

“Ding ding ding, we finally have a winner. So. You need water. Any ideas on how to get it?”

He looked up. “Doesn’t look like it’s gonna rain? How’m I supposed to find water?”

Taako answered his question with a question. “How does water flow?”

“You idiot, it flows downhill!”

“So look downhill.”

He went that way. Taako followed at a reasonable distance. It took less than twenty minutes to find water and  _Jason_  crawled on his belly to drink from the stream. Taako, beside him, knelt to scoop up the water in both hands and slurp from there.

“If an angry bear comes along, you’re fucked,” said Taako conversationally. “Gotta be ready to run in a cold second when you’re in the wild.”

A catfish, mough big enough to bite his face off, came up from the depths, aimed at his head. He choked and screamed and rolled away from the stream bank. The illusion glittered and faded away as Taako patted his back half-heartedly.

“I hate you.”

“Noted and logged.” Taako had a waterskin that he filled in the water. “Wanna try drinking again?”

He was smart enough to imitate Taako’s kneel when he drank this time. “Do  _I_  get a waterskin?”

“It’s make your own, homie. Can’t help ya.” He stood, shaking his hands dry and observed, “Sun’s getting real low.”

Only now did he realise that he had torn the shit out of the only sleeping bag for probably-miles. All that was left was rags and wind-blown scraps of fluff.

“Where am I gonna sleep?”

“Where would be safe?” asked Taako.

* * *

 

Three months later.

“MOM!”

Susan almost didn’t recognise her boy. For a start, he was riding a deer. Secondly, he looked a lot less like the sallow, doughy boy she had left on Taako’s doorstep. He had a bow hooked over his shoulders and a quiver at his waist and... he was significantly fitter than when she’d left him behind.

What had that Elf  _done_  to her helpless baby boy?

The deer skidded to a halt and Jason hopped off so he could hug her. “I was almost worried,” he said. “Mr Taako kept insisting you’d left for good, but you’re here exactly three months from when you left, just like you said.”

Susan kept staring at the deer, who was eyeing her like she might be edible.

“Oh, she’s cool. This is Nightbright, I tamed her myself. Watch this. Nightbright? Down.”

The deer knelt and looked like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth.

“You... tamed... a deer?”

“And loads more, mom. Mr Taako’s been teaching me how to survive in the wild! I made this bow? And these arrows? And this waterskin? And I tamed Nightbright and learned how to ride her? And I was gonna learn how to make a saddle, but Mr Taako says that bareback is faster? And I can weave a temporary shelter outta branches and I’ve nearly caught up with Angus, mom!”

Susan latched on to the only phrase that fit her limited world view. “You’re on an academic par with Angus McDonald?”

“No, mom. Survival. Like, if the worst happens, knock on wood,” he rapped his own head, “I can get you an’ me an’ dad to safety. Isn’t that neat?”

Belatedly, it dawned on Susan that her son was calling a grownup by a respectful honorific and using ‘neat’ as a descriptor rather than any given insult.

A second deer bounded up to them. A large and impressive stag. This one had a very small boy on it. “Hello, ma’am. Taako will be here in a minute or so. Was everything sorted out to an amenable finish?”

She was still stunned by the transformation of her son. “Yeah. It was... it was sorted out.”

Now a third deer appeared, with Taako on top like a classic woodcut. He looked every last inch the stereotypical Elf. “Hail and well met. I guess you want him back, right?”

Susan nodded. “How did you manage this?” she finally stammered.  _Tell me your secrets... what was the magic spell?_

“Oh, you know how it is,” Taako dismissed, dismounting. “All kids really need is a firm understanding of action related to consequence, and certain motivation to learn.”


	76. Nonny Request #58

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Can we see Taako and Kravitz being Good Dads?

A muttered word made the faerie lights inside Angus' room turn up to full brightness. "Rise and shine, kiddo," crooned Kravitz. "Time to face the brand new day."

"Mmmmmnnnnnggh," Angus attempted to burrow deeper under the covers. "Sir, it's a weekend."

"It's a lovely day outside," said Kravitz.

Angus peeked. "'S jus' past dawn," he grumbled.

Kravitz began to peel him out of the bedclothes. "Honestly, you're just as bad as Taako. Were you reading all night?" The evidence, the latest Caleb Cleveland novel, got placed neatly on a shelf. He also found Angus' glasses and gave them a polish with his kerchief. "Falling asleep while reading is how you bend these beyond usefulness, dear..."

Angus still refused to get up. "I w's readin' 'cause it w's a holiday th' next day."

He tutted. "You  _are_  as bad as Taako... Come on. Sooner up, sooner washed, sooner having a lovely breakfast and starting our family adventure day!"

Angus grumbled, but suffered being bullied by the sunniest man in the entire planar system. It wasn't even real bullying, just a series of temptations offered in exchange for getting washed, dressed, and brushing his teeth.

Taako was in the kitchen, still in his nightshirt and holding a cup of coffee in one hand and the last crumbs of a breakfast croissant in the other. Those last crumbs met their doom just as Kravitz leaped down into the kitchen. He gently wrapped Taako's other hand around the mug and said, "Drink, babe."

Taako was still apparently asleep, but sipped anyway.

"What's going on, sir?" said Angus.

Kravitz handed him a ball of twine. "Is this a hint?"

Oh. Oh shit. "The Faerie Markets? They're here?"

"The Faerie Markets," Kravitz confirmed. "You know the rules, right?"

"I've read about them, sir. Never give your real name, never agree to a favour, never lose track of the point where you entered," he gestured with the ball of string, "and never be there after dark."

Taako, having downed his coffee and crunched up the sugar sludge, said, "HOLYSHIT, BABEDIDYOUGIMMIEGNOMISHCOFFEE?"

"I had to, Dove. It's the Faerie Markets."

"FAERIE MARKETS? HOLYSHITIGOTTACHANGE." Zing. He was off so fast it was as if he teleported. When he came back, bare minutes later, he was fully dressed and had a small posy of dried flowers that he stuck in everyone's lapels with a pin. "HEREYAGOTTAKEEPTHESEON."

"I'm sure they're not necessary," said Kravitz.

"BELTANDBRACES, BUBBELAH."

The worst effects of the coffee had worn off by the time they made it to the commons, where a temporary warp had allowed access to the Faerie Markets. Taako showed Angus the knot that a Faerie couldn't untie, and they spooled out thread to cross over.

It was instantly confusing. Though they were all together on the Physical Plane, this pocket reality had them on three different streets. Good thing they had pre-arranged nicknames.

He could hear Kravitz calling for 'Dove' and Taako calling for 'Agnes', so that left him to call out, "Bones!" They found each other in short order.

From there, it was a dazzling experience. The Fae had access to magics that were merely theoretical in the Physical Plane. They also had access to addictive herbs and spices that would make a person waste away for wanting them. Therefore, it was safer to never purchase food or refreshments in the Faerie Markets.

Angus spent most of his day just staring at things. Taako kept him supplied with sandwiches, pies, and juice boxes from his multiple pockets. Whenever Angus saw Taako eating, he was snacking on some of his pocket pudding. Sometimes, it paid to be weirder than the locals.

He found a few amusing things that the Fae were willing to sell to him for gold (never locks of his hair, never drops of his blood, and never, ever, the promise of a favour) by which time, he'd got separated from his substitute family. Angus kept calm. spooling the twine back into a ball and tracing his path back the way he'd come. All the way back to the place where their paths first crossed.

Where Taako was running up to him. "Oh my gosh, there you are," said Taako. "I was so worried for you, darling. Come with me, I have something neat to show you."

The 'darling' was the first hint that something was awry. The second was that Taako didn't have the posy. Nor did he have a ball of twine in one hand and pudding stains in the other.

Angus said, "You're not Dove."

"Nonsense, sweetheart. Of course I'm your guardian. Don't you know me by sight?"

"I also know him by heart," said Angus. "You're nothing like him."

"ABRACA-FUCK YOU!" Magic missiles knocked the Fae imitator fifty yards down a side street, and the  _real_  Taako from Tv, pudding stains, twine, posy and all strode up to him. "You okay, pumpkin?"

"I wasn't fooled for a second, sir."

Kravitz was the next to come rushing up. "I heard the explosions, is there trouble?"

"Not any more. Let's book."

All three of them still had their posies. All three of them still had their twine. All three of them made it back into the Physical Plane before twilight had lit the sky in interesting colours.

Taako surprised him by scooping Angus up in a crushing hug.

"Sir?"

"Don't scare me like that, little man."

Kravitz wrapped them both around in his arms. "It's all right now. It's all right. We're safe."

Taako took a deep breath. "Yeah. Safe. Now we gotta keep these little baubles safe. Spit on everything you got when you were in there, then keep 'em safe from the dawn's light for seven days."

"Really?" said Kravitz. "I was taught you had to dust them with grave dirt and keep them on a shelf in the privy for seven days."

"We can do all of those," said Taako. He hadn't let go of Angus since the almost-abduction. "Belt and braces, my dears. Belt and braces."


	77. Nonny Request: #59

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Does Neosemo exist in the same verse as Angus and Agatha's birth-kids? Could you explore that if so? I'm just enchanted with that good good boy.
> 
> [AN: I mean... he can...]

“Sir, there’s an Orc claiming that he’s family, wanting to see your baby,” said the nurse. “If you want him escorted from the premises--”

“Neosemo?” Angus started up from his chair. “My boy is here?”

The nurse looked startled. Agatha and Agnes were sleeping, but Agatha opened one eye and mumbled, “Cool it.”

Angus gingerly toured around the bed as he murmured, “I can verify his identity if I can just see him...”

Neosemo was waiting politely near the ‘no admittance’ sign. He saw Angus through the window in the door and waved.

“There’s my boy,” cheered Angus, speeding up to greet his adopted son with a hug.

“Hey Dad,” said Neosemo. “I got here as soon as I could.” To the nurse, he said, “Can I see my baby sister now?”

Angus made much ado about insisting that all remained quiet, because newborns needed their sleep to grow. Agnes was two days old and Agatha was still recovering from getting her out into the world.

Thusly, Neosemo entered the ward on tip-toe.

“Holy shit,” he whispered, “Elf babies are fucking  _tiny_...”

Agatha opened one eye again. “You try pushing one out, sometime.”

Neosemo gave her a tusky grin. “Yeah, okay. I won’t complain again. Can I hold her, yet?”

Agatha scooted over. “Come beside me. You know how to be gentle, right?”

“Medical degree. Yeah.”

It was still an exercise in whispered tutorials. The infant Agnes complained about the transfer, and blinked at Neosemo.

“Hi there, little one,” he cooed. “I’m your big brother.”

Agnes frowned at him, then set up a howl. Much to the amusement of all around her.

“She’ll get used to you,” promised Agatha. “That, and she might be hungry again.”

“She has a stomach the size of a walnut,” said Angus, who had been studying this sort of thing. “She can’t help it.”

Neosemo was grinning. “It’s still a story I can taunt her with for decades to come,” he chuckled. “Long after I’m a famous and well-travelled Cleric.”

Of course he would. There was no such thing as a sibling who didn’t have ammunition against their brothers and sisters.


	78. Reader Request #14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LadyVin Said:  
> Loved this chapter! I'd love to see what would happen if Taako were out collecting a bounty with the Reaper Squad if he gets hit mid-battle with a Feeblemind spell.

"Babe, these are heavy hitters," Taako had argued. "The more heavy hitters you have on your side, the better."

They would hate those words, eventually. Definitely ten minutes after they realised what had happened. In the heat of battle, with spells flying back and forth, nobody knew what had hit him. What they did know was that Taako had stopped using magic and had swapped to the steel of his shortsword and any handy weapon he had available. It was only after the fireworks ceased, at last, that the realisation dawned.

Taako had dropped his famous Umbrastaff, his less than famous KrEbStAr, and even his main wand. The shortsword that everyone swore was at his hip for decoration was now soaked in cultists' blood. As was he.

Lup was the first to realise, because she said, "What the fuck, bro?"

Taako merely grinned at her and waved with the sword.

Angus lowered his wand. "Sir?"

Kravitz lowered his scythe. "Babe?"

Barry put down the reliquary. "Taako? T-taako speak to us. Say something."

The only sound out of his mouth was a sort of, "Haaaaah..." noise.

One of the now-dead mages in the cult had a sphere in their now-limp hand, made of a mineral crystal. "Oh shit," said Angus. "It's feeblemind."

* * *

 

For Taako, the world had become simpler. There were those he liked, and those he disliked. There were things he liked and disliked, too. He liked Angus, Kravitz, Lup, Barry, Davenport, Magnus, Ren, Carey and Killian. He did  _not_ like Lucretia, Leon, or Merle.

He was also afraid of strangers.

Which meant that he wasn't inclined to go anywhere near any kind of Cleric, Bard, Sorcerer or Druid who could have easily helped him. The local friendly Wizards, unfortunately, didn't possess Wish.

For Taako, there were no longer any concerns of his public image to prevent him from showing affection to those he loved best. He was glad to throw his arms around them all and show them how much he liked them. Hugs and kisses abounded, and so did purrs.

His days were full. Sitting and listening to Ango read, or having a cuddle puddle with Krav and Lulu and Barold, or cooking with Lulu, or curling up in a sunbeam with most of the cats. Sometimes, he would go out into the gardens and pluck out whatever plants caught his interest. Flowers. Fruiting bodies. Leaves and twigs. The occasional fungus. He laid them all out on a specific counter, and shared them with his family. Some things became food, with Lup helping him out. Some things became pretty, with Ango or Mango helping him.

On some days, he would build card towers with Dav, or weave ribbons together with Ren. Carey and Killian were always fun to hop around with through assorted obstacle courses, and he could still show them how to be friends with the estate deer.

Life was good.

Sometimes, his friends would be sad. He didn't understand a word they said, nor could he speak any of them, but he knew they were sad. He tried his best, but all the flowers, purring, and hugs in the world couldn't cheer them up. He couldn't fathom what made them so miserable. He couldn't reach what could cheer their flagging spirits. As the days passed, his friends got sadder. He wanted to make everything better. He just... didn't have the first idea how.

*

Taako hid behind the countertop from Jeremy. Carey stopped their progress towards him and singsonged, "No, no. It's okay. This is my brother, Jeremy."

"Scales," corrected Jeremy.

"Stop it," she warned. "It's okay, Taako. He's family."

Wary mismatched eyes peeked over the countertop. Taako made an uncertain whimper.

Jeremy strummed some notes and cast Calm Emotions, watching the evident terror ebb from him. When he had no reason to be afraid, he came out of hiding. His fear may be gone, but he was still distrustful.

"See?" Carey cooed. "Jeremy's just gonna sing you a song."

He literally changed his tune.  _"Come hear me/ and you'll be/ in the spell of Greater Restoration..."_

It was... it was almost wrong. Watching the restoration cure Feeblemind. The open, unflinching cheer faded. Intelligence dawned behind his eyes. His usual affectations and poses came back by slow degrees. Carey could  _see_ his sharp wit starting to re-hone itself.

This Taako would not admit to liking anyone out loud. This Taako would have a chain of lies to cover for any outward sign of affection. This Taako would make you pass an essay test to become one of his friendship club.

Taako was  _back._

He leaned artistically on the counter and said, "Guess I owe you all for making sure I didn't make an ass of myself in front of the paparazzi."

Carey knew this as Taako-ese for  _thank you._ "You're welcome, you asshole."

"Stay a while," he said. "I owe everyone an extravaganza after putting up with Lup's cooking for -what- two months?"

Which was as close as normal Taako could get to displaying gratitude. "Sure," she said. "But you're going to have to stop me stealing one of your cats."

"Deal." Since he'd picked them anyway, he rearranged some of his edible harvest from earlier in the day. He already had fifty percent of a recipe.

Dinner was going to be kick-ass.


	79. Nonny Request #60

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Love your work! Prompt (feel free to ignore it): Angus goes missing while on a case, Taako frets. Turns out the kid broke his leg out in the woods somewhere and was scared of upsetting Taako about it, so called Magnus in a panic to come help him.

He said he’d be back soon. Ango was the most honest kid in the multiverse, and Taako hadn’t doubted him at the time. Soon, to Taako’s mind, was something within a week or two.

He was concerned by the end of week one. Outright fretting by week two. So worried that he couldn’t rest at all by week three.

“He’s still okay, right?” Taako asked Krav, Lup, or Barry whenever they came home. “He’s still  _alive_ , right?”

By halfway through week four, just ‘alive’ wasn’t enough. Taako took his best long-distance Deer, his most thorough spellcasting ingredients, and all his spell focii and gadgets, Angus’ duplicate Book of Transcription, and took off.

He had refined Locate Creature to a greater range and could narrow down a general direction if within ten miles of his targets location. He extrapolated most of a path from Angus’ book. He forgot to eat. He didn’t sleep. He was too disturbed to meditate.

Four days out from the farmhouse, Krav appeared while Taako let Dh’ondahr[1] grazed and took water. He was seriously pondering magecrafting a crystal storehouse for the beast while he used Garyl to keep moving when his husband appeared through a rift.

“He’s still  _alive,_  right?”

“Yes, Dove. He’s still alive.”

Taako could breathe. “Istus says he’s going to be okay?”

“Dove... I came because you’re  _not_  okay. When was the last time you ate?”

“I’m good. I’ve got lembas.”

“Dove...”

“I haven’t been hungry,” he said, unable to deny the love of his life. “For... four days.”

Krav took the lembas Taako had waved around and broke it along its pressed fault lines. “Eat, Dove. For me? For Ango?”

It was one of his best recipes, but it tasted like ash as he ate mechanically.

Krav brought his hurdy-gurdy out from his personal hammerspace.

“Oh fuck you,” grumbled Taako.

“You know I have to, Babe.” He sang,  _“Sleep, Taako, sleep, you’ve worn yourself to shreds/ Tomorrow come on back to tearing up Faerun’s green breast/ There’s no-one you can blame, just circumstances threads...”_  He did not cast Sleep, as Taako was naturally immune to that. He cast Calm Emotion. Which had the same net effect that Sleep would have on anyone else.

Taako was conked out before the last line.

Krav was still watching over him come the dawn. He had made coffee and a servicable breakfast on the campfire.

“I hate you,” said Taako without any conviction.

“No you don’t,” said Krav with every ounce of confidence. “You needed this. One day, you may even admit it.”

Taako mumbled, “I have to find our boy,” into his eggs as he bolted them down.

“I’ll try to stop by,” Krav soothed. “Look after yourself, okay? You can’t look after Ango if you’re falling over.”

“Sure,” said Taako, but he was already up and making ready to go. “Wish you could zero in on not-death-criminals.”

“Same, Dove. Same.”

Three days later, Taako found Angus in Ravensroost. The entire town was in the middle of reconstruction and apparently belonged to dogs. Well. Mostly dogs. All of them were happy to see him and would eventually sit when told. Magnus. loaded down with rebuilding materials, waved. “I got your kid,” he hollered.

Taako, in no mood to argue about Angus ownershio, bellowed, “WHERE’S MY BABY?”

Ango was laid up in the Ravensroost hostel with a broken leg in traction. It was telling that he somehow found an issue of Caleb Cleveland to read. Someone had given him a bowl of stew and a bell.

“Oh. Hello, sir. I didn’t mean to make you worry.” Of course he knew Taako had been fretting. Signs like the Blight were hard to obscure. Plus he hadn’t applied his usual glamour since... three weeks ago.

Taako fell across him in a very out-of-character hug. “Don’t do that to me again,” he said, holding his boy close. “Don’t do that to me ever.”

He barely heard, “I won’t, sir. And next time, I’ll take along the Stone of Farspeech. So you can contact me when I’m on a case.”

He was out of it before any further explanation reached his pointed ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] A traditional Elven name for deer.


	80. Reader Request #15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> QueenKara671 requested:  
> Angus is really smart, right? But I head canon that he has a lot of trouble with math, so is it okay if you write a chapter where he's having trouble and asks Taako for help but they can't solve it so they ask Kravitz and none of them can solve it and it's just hilarious? You don't have to but I thought it would be cute.

"Sir, I don't understand this problem," said Angus.

Taako deliberately refrained from wincing at the  _sir._ His boy only called his adopted parents that when he was scared of being abandoned owing to a now-obvious flaw. "Let's have a look at it, sweetie."

At the top of the page was,  _Solve this pair of simultaneous equations using the method of elimination._ And slightly underneath:  _4m - n = 6_ and _3m +2n = -1._

"Babe, I can't even understand the question," he said. "Is there a book?"

Angus' relief was visible, he placed the page down and ran to get the book. The returning instructions were no clearer than mud.

"Wait. We add the  _equations_ together? The hell is this? Lemme have a crack at it the old fashioned way." By which he meant the Tosun way. He could recognise each equation as a partial quadratic.  _4m - n - 6 = 0_ and  _3m +2n +1 = 0._

Half an hour later, he had three pages full of transformations and no clear answer.

"I don't think this is what we're supposed to be doing, sir."

"I used to do multiplanar math, this should be sugar cookies." And worse, he still wasn't getting an agreement on any given solution.

"They say we have to add the equations, sir. Like this whole one plus that whole one."

"Still doesn't get rid of the N," grumbled Taako. He was tetchy at this thing. Angus was scared, the poor little angel. "Let's take a break for cookie dough and hot chocolate and a chill-out with the cats."

_"Yes, please,"_ sobbed Angus. "This is heartbreaking."

"Honesty with emotions means you choose the flavour," Taako chirped.

Just as Angus said, "All the chocolates, sir, with chips." Krav tore into the prime physical plane.

"Sweetened cocoa butter?[1]

"That, too. Thank you."

Krav surveyed the wreckage on the coffee table. "What the heck is this?"

"A spell of confounding masquerading as math homework," said Taako. "We're taking a sugar break from sheer exasperation."

Krav peered at the instructions. He peered at the question. He squinted at them both. "You sure this isn't a diabolical attack of some kind?"

Taako had the step-stool around by his side so he could co-incidentally hug Ango while they were making cookie dough together. "Why we're takin' a sugar break, babe."

Krav couldn't resist the challenge. He got more paper and his own pencil. "Let's take a crack at this beastie..."

Taako let him scratch at the paper while he and Ango busied themselves with cookie dough and hot chocolate. Neapolitan and Caleb on their laps and dough to eat and luxurious hot chocolate to drink soothed their tattered spirits.

The third cup and a share of the dough waited for Krav to scatter the papers in the air and shout, "Damnit!" Krav joined them at the table, grateful for the hot chocolate and cookie dough. "Thanks, babe."

"No prob, Bob. I used to do multiplanar math. If this confounds me, it's gotta confound a two-thousand-year-old bard."

Barry wandered down from his nerd stuff. "Please tell me I didn't miss whatever you had cookin'?"

"M'kay," said Taako. "I can get a fresh batch goin' for you an' Lulu."

Barry cracked his knuckles and hunkered down by exhibit A. "I love a challenge." It took him half an hour to start muttering, "What the fuck?" in various tones as he progressed through page after page of paper. Lup wandered down halfway through this and joined him in attempting to crack the code.

"How the hell is that supposed to eliminate anything?"

"Can't treat it like a quadratic..."

"How the fuck are we supposed to get rid of that N?"

"What language are these instructions written in? Could it be a code?"

Two hours later, the entire immediate family were eating cookie dough, supping hot chocolate, petting cats, and stewing in mildly suppressed fury.

"There's nothing like the next generation of math to make the last generations of mathematicians  _bloody furious..."_ seethed Barry.

Angus had cried himself out. "You're not mad at me?"

Taako said, "No, pumpkin. If three out of seven multidimensional geniuses can't get it, it's too tough for your little baby noggin."

"We're mad at your teacher for assigning it," said Krav. "There's going to be words."

"Conciliatory pizza night?" suggested Lup.

"Sis, you read my fuckin' mind."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] White chocolate is neither white nor chocolate. Fight me.
> 
> [AN: Yes, that is an actual math problem that caused the entire family of nerds hours of consternation. The solution was to add one of the equations twice]


	81. Nonny Request #61

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Not sure if you’re planning on coming back to tumblr after the rapture (17th) but if you do I had an adventure zone story request. Could you do some TaakoXMagnus? If you don’t like that ship then can we just see Magnus angst? Thank you!!!!
> 
> [AN: (Still Alive playing in the background) Taagnus isn’t my favourite but I can see how they’d be FWB during SC]

Magnus was used to being strong for Taako. That was how it worked. Then Taako was feeling weak, lonely, or emotionally tired. It happened more often when Lup died. He really had to be strong then, because Taako was most likely to go off the rails when his sister was dead.

Today, though, some random virus had managed to assault him. Something that had killed Barry and was close to killing Luce... and now had got to him despite their best efforts to prevent it.

He felt like dog shit that had been dragged backwards through a hedge and set on fire. He felt weaker than a newborn kitten and less able to focus on the world outside his bed.

Hot soup and cold water kept appearing by his bedside. Cold compresses and hot water bottles eased his discomfort. He was dimly aware that someone was sponge-bathing him.

It was a sweat-soaked and uncomfortable time, but someone was invested in his survival and, given that Merle was shitty at that sort of thing. The weight he sometimes sensed on his bed was too heavy to be Cap’n’port. He hadn’t thought anyone else was even bothered with his continued existence. He’d be back next year like nothing ever happened to him.

Why should they care?

His name was Magnus Burnsides. He was eighteen. He’d been eighteen for twenty-five years. As time slipped out of his grasp, he didn’t know whether to curse this attempted saviour or bless them. It all depended how shit he felt whenever consciousness wrestled with him and won.

Blink.

Retching into a tub. Someone’s hand was stopping him from falling out of his bunk and into his own puke. Soaked in sweat and down to his undies under a sheet that had been tossed on and off.

“Let it out,” said a voice on the edge of his awareness. “Don’t hold back i’morko.”

A glass of water. Cool and fresh. Pressed to his lips. “Rinse. Spit.”

He did that.

The form that leaned him back on the mess of pillows was a blur in the reds and golds of the mission uniform. Couldn’t be Taako. Taako always ditched the uniform at the first opportunity.

“...who?” he croaked.

“Don’t sweat it. Here.”

A concoction of milk, herbs, and honey. Comfort-warm and a blessing on his ravaged throat. The stabbing in his stomach eased.

“Just rest.”

Blink.

Shivering in the darkness. So cold. A presence leaning over him Snuggling up close. Whoever they were, they were a furnace. Someone moved around the hot water bottles. Someone brushed his face. Calloused hands.

“Sssh. Sshh-shh... Deep breaths, now. Deep breaths.”

He tried his best until he sank back down again.

Blink.

The soup had chunks in it. “You remember how to chew, right?”

He did that. The meat was spicy and soft. The liquid around it was warm and comforting. The blur in front of him was a little clearer. Darkish skin with lighter patches. Golden hair tied up in a red kerchief. He couldn’t focus on the eyes and easily tell which twin had the tonic.

“...lup?”

“Guess again, homeslice.”

Blink.

It might be daytime, but he was alone. Sprawled out on his bunk and unable to lift a finger. Running footsteps coming towards his position and he couldn’t even move his head.

The red blur was back, fiddling with his button fly and muttering under his breath. “...stoopid-ass fashion designers, those assholes never had t’ pee in a hurry in their lives...”

Magnus smiled. He  _knew_  that complaint. By heart. His voice was a rough and ghostly rasp. “...hey taako...”

Taako finished wrestling with is upper buttons. “Hey. Feeling better yet?”

“I feel like wrung-out laundry after it’s been beat on a rock.”

“Yeah, that’d about get it. Luce said that’s how she felt when she beat it. You’re on the way back up. So there’s that good news.” He made to feel Magnus’ brow.

“You wash your hands?”

Now he could focus on Taako’s mismatched glare. “No, I stuck both hands up my ass and came straight to you.” His hands were damp and smelled of the lavender soap they made on weekends. “Fever’s broken. Want help getting into the shower? ‘Cause you smell like boiled ass.”

“You’d know what boiled ass smells like,” quipped Magnus. Which was a cue to the usual joke.

“Of course I do, I boiled your ass the last time you died. Stank up the ship for two weeks.”

He laughed so hard he fell to fits to coughing.

“Easy, now. Easy. No joking for another week.”

“What? No sponge bath?”

“Naw, ya gotta try an’ walk as soon as you can. You got some atrophy going on, and -uh- don’t look.”

Given how weak he felt just sitting up, he decided not to look at how bad he’d got. The crew had taken to covering any mirror on board when disease or injury ravaged the survivor’s bodies and faces. There was already a cloth over the mirror in the bathroom.

Close to, Taako also looked like hell. There were signs of Blight up his neck and his eyes were hollow. He had a kind of boiled ass aroma to him and his hair was kind’a greasy.

“Were you looking after me the whole time?”

Taako rolled his mismatched eyes and scoffed. “No...” which was Taako-ese for ‘yes’.

Magnus didn’t argue with his horseshit. He just said, “Thanks,” and added, “Maybe you should help me stand in the shower.”

“Eh. Whatever.”

Which was Taako-ese for, “Sure, but don’t make a big deal out of that.”

They showered together with a few more hugs than necessary. Just two people surviving the disaster together. He didn’t say a word about them sharing a bed to rest. He didn’t say a word about how often Taako actually showed he cared during his recovery.

That was how they rolled. That was how it worked. For them.


	82. Reader Request #16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FifiMae requested
> 
> Can we get a continuation of Chapter 70, like how does Taako get his memories back?

It came in fits and starts. Little gems of information. One minute, he would be minding his own business. Brushing his hair, brushing a cat, working on sculpting a salmon rose... And then he would freeze for a minute or two. Diving deep into the pool of memory and coming up with a pearl.

The first time, it was with Lup. They were cooking in sync and Taako froze in place, looking very concerned. He came out of it in less than a handful of seconds, saying, "You went missing. We ran ourselves ragged looking for you."

Lup said, "Yeah. I made some really dumb mistakes. You found me all the same."

Taako, still looking hazy, added, "I'd forgotten all about you by then. Why? How could I forget _you?"_

"It's a long story," said Lup. They got back in sync and continued on with their plans for the evening.

Other times, it was more obscure. When he and Krav were cuddled together[1] watching some inanity on a moving scroll. He zoned out for a moment and in seeming randomness asked, "Pink crystals?"

Krav blushed and smiled. "Yes."

"Tentacles?" said Taako.

The blush deepened. "Oh yes."

"And we still--?"

"Never regretted a moment."

"Okay."

One dark and storm-scattered evening, Taako lurched upright from his sleep screaming, "Sazed! Come back!" and two breaths later, "FUCK YOU SAZED!"

His life was coming back together in patches. Yet, every single time he shared moments with Angus, nothing came forward. This child loved him and Taako wanted to know why he loved him back. The feeling was there. He knew it. It was evident in everything around him and this child. He wanted to know the story. He wanted to know why...

Nothing came out.

Nothing surfaced from the bubbling sea of memory. It was as if there was an Angus-shaped hole in his life.

Almost like a curse.

"I swear it's a curse," he said, mixing some batter with the boy. Like I just can't touch my memory of you."

"Curses are made to be broken, sir. There's true love's kiss..."

"Done a dozen times or more."

"Unconditional love..."

"Dur. Yes. Got it."

"A big shock?"

"Little dude... I don't know if anything _can_ shock me any more."

"A proper code-phrase or word as a key... Sir! One of the nicknames you had for me! It's a perfect key because you wouldn't remember it."

Taako had to concede that point. "Okay. So what did I call you?"

"Oh, all sorts of names, sir. Pint-size, little man, Ango, Agnes--"

The world... shattered all over again. "You were on a train. I threw you _off_ a train! And you still came back and-- we were so horrible! Why did you love us like that?"

A wide grin. "I could tell you weren't sincere, sir. And later on, you tried to be a better role model and everything. You taught me _magic,_ sir. And you were real proud of me more than once. And when you found out about... _them..._ "

His parents! Oooh... People like that had no business parenting at all. Taako remembered now. He'd won this kid in Trial By Love.

He loved this kid. Sure, he didn't always show it and proclaimed to dislike him, but... Ango had cracked that code in seconds flat.

Taako scooped him up in a genuine hug. "That's my boy," he said. "That's my beautiful magic boy."

Angus returned the embrace and said, "Welcome back, sir."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Taako could easily tell that Krav wasn't lying about them being married. Not with the doofy expression Krav got whenever they were together for any length of time.


	83. Nonny Request #62

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> May I request Angus coming home, only to find out his wife has a terrible fever and distressed purring?

The flat was dark when he returned. This was nothing new. What with the frenetic activities of two super-genius nosy busibodies, there were many times that their flat was dark and empty when one of them returned to it.

Nothing new on the noticeboard, their chief way of non-facetime communication. Not even an encoded dirty limerick. There were only shelf-stable ingredients in the pantry, of course. They weren’t in long enough or often enough to trust things like eggs and milk to last long enough between uses. Taako would flip at the dehydrated eggs and the long-life milk cartons, but... he never had to know about this flat and he liked it that way.

What gave Angus pause was the bag on the hatrack.

Agatha’s bag, and her bandolier of useful things. Hung on the hook like they always were when she was in.

He followed her usual path from hatrack to bedroom, finding her shoes kicked off and laying where they’d fallen. She must have had a long and tiring day, then collapsed into bed for a short nap.

She was curled in a ball on top of their bed. Clothing tossed off in brief fits of uncomfortable consciousness. In the grey light of darkvision, Angus could see a sheen of perspiration on her beautiful skin.

And hear...

_thrrtt... thrrtt... thrrtt..._

The soft, barely audible, broken purr of clear distress. He didn’t need to touch her to know she was sick, but when he did, she was burning hot. Her feet were ice cold and her brow was hot enough to cook soup on. When he added a gentle, questing hand to her belly, she moaned in protest, but didn’t wake.

Right. This was bad, bad beans.

He left a note for her on the board, just,  _Gone out for supplies - G._  and hurried to where he could get some fresh stuff at this hour. Taako always insisted that fresh and as natural as possible was always the best. Ginger. Garlic. Chicken stock. Chicken. Vegetables. Cinnamon. Honey. Lemon. Socks of Comfort. Compress of Cooling. Seven different things that promised to soothe an upset stomach and enough painkillers to cause concern in the clerk.

“Sick wife,” said Angus. “We’ve only been married a couple of months.”

“What’s she got?”

Angus listed off the known symptoms and asked if there was anything else that could help her out. Unfortunately, the answer was negative.

He rushed back and got the tea started and carefully wriggled the socks onto her cold feet. Then equally as carefully eased the compress onto her fevered brow. Next - soup.

Taako had indeed taught him everything he knew about cooking, including the bare basics and variations of his nigh-famous ginger garlic chicken soup. Good for anything that ailed a body except maybe death. Even then, it had been known to warm literally the coldest heart.

Tea ready, Angus got together some painkillers - ones also good for easing a fever - and a few stomach remedies and brought them to Agatha.

She was resting a little easier, which made it horrible to wake her up. She complained with an inchoate groan.

“I know, love,” he cooed. “Got some stuff to help you feel better, babe.”

“Thanks babe,” she croaked, fighting to attain an upright position. Painkillers and stomach meds, then slow sips of tea. “...dunno what this is, but it hit me like an ogre.”

“Clerk said it’s going around. The good news is, it goes through quick. The bad news is, it’s hell.”

“Don’t catch it?”

“Trying not to.”

He let her rest for the two hours it took for the soup to be done. Sleep was her ally in this battle. Then it was time to wake her and feed her as much as she could stomach.

Good thing half-Elves could meditate just as well as the full-blooded ones. He’d need that little trick to stay fresh whilst Agatha needed care.

It  _was_  hell. And it was over inside of four days. Agatha was left weak, wrung out, and wan, but she would get better from there. Which was just as well, because he had been incredibly worried for those four days.

The best thing in the world was being able to snuggle up next to her without a worry in his head. It was also the best sleep he’d had in a week.


	84. Nonny Request #63

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Can we see Taako dealing with unrequited/onesided love?

Koko had frozen halfway through putting his costume on. He was staring off in a particular direction with a lovelorn expression on his face.

“Focus, dear,” said Lulu, yanking the leotard all the way up to his shoulders. “We’re on in five.”

“I can’t help it, he’s gorgeous,” Koko sighed.

Lulu tweaked the piece of tarpaulin so that it blocked his view of this particular circus’ knife thrower, Kustaad the Magnificent. “He’s straight as an arrow and knows you’re underage, Koko. Give up.”

“But he’s  _gorgeous...”_

“Everybody knows, Koko. Including his  _wife.”_  She made faces at him so she could fix his makeup. “You might have a chance with his son...”

Koko murmured uncertainly. “I know they’re unhappy, I heard them fighting...”

“That wasn’t fighting, bro-bro.”

“Three minutes, wonder twins! Goggles on or Harkin’s gonna scrag you!”

Because Harkin believed in Witch Eyes and so did a large portion of the audience. Lulu put his on because Koko wasn’t focussing on any damn thing but the wants of his own groin.

Lulu grabbed his face. “We are going to be jumping around at each other thirty feet off the ground, brother-dear. I need you to focus on the most important people -  _us.”_

He sighed, pressing his forehead to hers. “I know. I know. Mind on the job.”

“Good,” she breathed easier. Just in time for them to wow the audience with glitter and dazzle.

*

There he was! The most beautiful man Koko had ever met. He was sweaty and out of breath from his part of the show and Kustaad just stole what little breath he had left. He still had a smile for the man. “Did you see?” he panted. “Amazing, right?”

Kustaad said what he always said, since he was literally old enough to be Koko’s father. “You did good, kid. If I was your dad, I’d be proud of you.” And he petted Koko’s head like a loving parent might.

Of course he did. He had a  _kid_  Koko’s  _age._  That hurt.

At least Koko had the sense not to share the acres of bad poetry he’d written about being painfully in love with an older man who wasn’t even aware that gay people existed.

Meanwhile, there was Kri. Kustaad’s son who was a mere handful of years Koko’s junior. Sure, Kri could mature to be just like his father, but he was a weedy Elven junior of about Seventy.

Who was definitely in adoration of Koko, and might have a baby crush. “I saw you,” said Kri. “You  _were_  amazing! You’re always amazing. When you did that flip and swapped around to leap backwards? I swear my heart stopped.”

It wouldn’t be fair to lead Kri along when he was so badly in love with Kustaad. And it wasn’t fair to Kri to not at least be friendly. “We got us a situation, huh?” he said.

“Huh?” echoed Kri.

“You got a thing for me. I got a thing for... someone else. It kind’a hurts, right?”

Kri sighed, pain in his eyes. “Yeah. It does.”

Koko took a deep breath. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I know  _exactly_  how much this hurts.”

“Wish it didn’t,” said Kri.

“Your mouth to the gods’ ears,” said Koko.

That night, he would spend three hours waxing lyrical to Lulu about the great sacrifices he had made in the name of love. Making friends with a younger kid and bonding over how painful love can be when it wasn’t returned.

All so Kustaad could be happy that his son Kri had a reason to be happy.


	85. Nonny Request #64

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Could we see Taako and/or Kravitz embarrassing Angus?

This was the day that Angus had been dreading. Parent and teacher night had begun. Some parents were dreaded already, like  _Susan,_  who was there to badger everyone about how brilliant her darling little  _Jason_  was and how it was discriminatory that he was kept from the halls of Miller Academy.

The other one they dreaded was Taako. Who could now blaze right through all the checks and barriers to stop him haranguing the teachers and just go off at everyone who he thought wasn’t doing their job. Angus was dreading that part.

What he hadn’t anticipated was  _Kravitz._ Who turned up in a resplendently fancy suit, looking like he existed to be Taako’s arm candy. Angus thought he’d let Taako take the lead.

Kravitz, however, had his own concerns about modern education. “I don’t see any indicators in regards to penmanship or calligraphy in his report cards,” he said to  _every._  Single. Teacher. “A good, neat hand is essential for everyone’s future.”

“Not since Miller Labs released the autodictator pen. Actually, since the book of transcription, handwriting has been less important.”

“When did  _that_  happen?”

“Three hundred years ago, sir,” Angus sighed.

“Yeah, I did like, half my first book with a book of transcription. The editing was hell, though,” said Taako. “Anyway, back to this bullshit alleged curriculum of yours...”

Then there was the issue of  _maths..._

“The entire family worked on this piece of shit problem for  _five fucking hours...”_

“You need to send more detailed instructions for parents helping their kids.”

“The Seven Birds literally couldn’t do that one, and we’re fucking  _legends.”_

Angus was shocked. “You got Madam  _Director_  in on that one, sirs?”

“Hell yeah,” said Taako. “Delegate to the nerds, that’s how we do.”

Kravitz got their train of thought back onto the tracks. “Can you show us how this one is supposed to work?”

That took three hours, including the arguments about why it shouldn’t work.

The pinnacle of suck for Angus happened when they got to his music teacher.

“Why,” said Kravitz, edging into his Work Accent, “the  _fock,_  is Angus marked down for music? I’ve been teaching our boy everything ‘e knows.”

“Elementary music theory isn’t about improvisation,” said the luckless teacher. “It isn’t about  _influence..._  It’s about learning the rules.”

“Well, if he’s more advanced than this class,” said Kravitz, “move him up.”

The music teacher said what they said to parents like Susan. “It’s necessary to earn a passing grade at elementary music theory before moving on to more advanced classes. It isn’t me, it’s the rules of the academy. We have to be certain that students are qualified for the work.”

“Angus, sweetie, why don’t you play  _All For the Stars_  for this blatant ignoramus?”

“Sir...” Angus protested.

“Play for the man, Agnes. What’s to lose?”

_My dignity,_  thought Angus. “This isn’t an audition, sir. It’s my fault for getting bored in class. It’s the school rules and all the playing I can do wouldn’t change anyone’s mind.”

“Your son has a firm grasp of the situation,” said the teacher, leaving the,  _Why don’t you?_  unspoken. “Playing anything wouldn’t change--”

“Play for the man,” Taako insisted. “We know you’re better than an entry-level class. Show everyone.”

“Sir--”

Great. Now everyone was looking. Taako had a piercing voice and knew how to pitch it to carry to the crowd.

“This is my boy and he can play up a storm.” Taako started a chant. “Play! Play! Play! Play...”

Angus wished he had Shape Earth so he could vanish into a hole into the ground. He shared a sympathetic moment with the music teacher who rolled their eyes; and eventually made a go-ahead gesture.

Angus, ears steaming from the heat of mortification, sighed and played. Not Kravtiz’s suggestion. Not  _March of the Forgotten,_  which was a hardy favourite, but a different composition from Johann. He’d called it,  _Even the Unworthy._

Angus had loved it. It was his favourite. It made him feel like he could be valued even when nobody could possibly appreciate him. It made him feel good about himself when it seemed like nobody else could harbour any kind feeling.

He sat back down when he was done, not listening to the applause or his adopted parents’ bragging. in between the hubbub, he managed. “I’m gonna try harder to stick to the rules, sir.”

“I’ll do what I can to get you bumped up as soon as possible.”

Deal struck, Angus did his best to survive the rest of the evening without spontaneously combusting from sheer embarrassment.


	86. Reader Request #17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dualityandsuch said:  
> I want Krav and Ango to cook something for Taako and Krav can't find the measurement for chocolate chips and Ango tells him Taako's philosophy on chocolate chips. Ooooh that would be -pardon the pun- so sweet.

 

“Have fun, darling.”

“It’s a pre-show rejuvenation sesh, it’s never fun. It’s hard to look as good as my sister, these days.”

“You always look amazing to me,” said Kravitz, adding a farewell kiss.

Taako smirked. “Sap. I’ll make an effort at enjoying it. For you.”

Angus, at their elbows, said, “I’m sure you’ll look more than lovely when you’re done. Not that we’d be able to tell the difference between splendid you and regular you.”

“Flattery will get you extra dessert,” smoothed Taako. He summoned Garyl and was off at top speed.

Krav breathed a sigh of relief and clapped his hands. “Right. You and I?” he said, “We’re making Taako some  _treats.”_

Angus jumped and clapped at the idea. “That’s excellent, sir! He’s always out of sorts after a beauty regime. Some treat food would help him feel so much better after a long day.”

Krav looked over his shoulder as he entered the kitchen - forbidden ground when Taako was home - Taako was well away and accelerating, but he had an over-the-horizon detection system for knowing when fools were about to mess up his kitchen. “Now, Mr Detective. What should we make?”

“Taako generally makes cookies when he’s in a bad mood, but he rarely eats them,” Angus reached up to one of the more battered tomes and flipped to a stained page. “He much prefers these as a foodstuff, sir.”

Kravitz looked at the recipe. “Berry, cream cheese and chocolate chip muffins?”

“He keeps a supply in a bag of preservation in a nook hidden in the master bedroom, sir,” said Angus. “He usually rations them, but I’m sure he won’t mind some fresh ones with whipped cream.”

Kravitz clapped his hands. “All right. Let’s get these ingredients together... Eggs, flour, mascarpone, butter, berries, honey... It doesn’t say how much chocolate chips we need.”

“His recipes never do, sir. Taako says, never let a recipe tell you how many chocolate chips you need. You measure that shit with your heart.”

“He does?”

“That’s a direct quote, sir.”

“That explains why there’s never  _partial_  packets of chocolate chips in the kitchen,” Kravitz shrugged. “Okay. Directions. We can’t screw it up too bad if there’s proper directions, right?”

Angus made an uncertain noise and said, “We can try not to screw it up.”

* * *

 

Taako’s journey back to his home was a lot more careful than his trip towards the temples of vanity that made him appear super special for his impending interview. A team of technicians had, after all, spent hours on his face and hair. He had another team each per hand. At least Garyl never wrecked a manicure.

He could smell trouble in the way his husband and apprentice were waiting for him at the door. He could really smell trouble in the way Krav had an apron on over his lovely suit. It was the way they were smiling, though, that triggered his final fuckery alarm.

“What have you two been up to?” he asked.

Krav’s picture of innocence was badly forged. “Who says we were up to anything, Dove?”

Taako gave him his best stop-the-horseshit glare. “Do I  _need_  to go through what my Perception Check picked up?”

He smiled in that super-sexy way he had. “We made you a little treat. To lift your mood.”

“It’s still baking, sir,” added Ango.

Good. “Great. Then I shouldn’t ruin my makeup for the interview. You two didn’t leave a huge mess in my kitchen, did you?”

“Cleaned up every last spill and stain,” said Krav. “And we set up the sunshine parlour for the people coming by.”

“They should be ready just before the interview ends,” said Angus. “At least, if my math is accurate.”

Ango’s time math was way more reliable than Miller Academy’s ridiculous equations. “Good for you. If temptation ruined this makeup, I’d have been pissed.” And, because this kid was more or less his son, he added, “That’s very thoughtful of you. Thanks.”

Which was more of a shock to them than anything else he could have done. Good to know he could keep his family on their toes even now.

One deep inhale told him everything. They’d made the berry cream cheese muffins with chocolate chips. His favourite.

It was true. He had the best family.


	87. Reader Request #18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dualityandsuch said:  
> Hey there friendo! Can I please get a tiny Ango being overstimulated in a situation (maybe a party or something) and his family (Starblaster family) being supportive and helping him out?

New school! New books! New clothes! New people! Loud noise everywhere, of course. People made noise. They made a  _lot_  of noise, especially on occasions like orientation day at Miller Academy.

He knew this in advance. He thought he was prepared.

But still the hubbub of chatter hammered at his ears. Still, the confusion of uniformed bodies dazzled his eyes. Still, the eternal clatter of footwear on tiled floors vibrated his very bones.

And there was a black cloak around him and the cool touch of Mr Kravitz’s skin on his cheek. “Deep breaths, Chickie,” he cooed. “Need some green?”

Mr Taako was there, much warmer and soothing his hair. “You okay, pumpkin?”

“...loud,” he said. “Green please.”

The three of them made their way to the nearest small garden. Miller Academy catered to many kinds of genius and recognised the need for little courtyards full of green, growing things. This enclave had an abundance of feathery ferns and soft mosses to cover the ground. There was also a sort of wicker basket chair that his parents plopped him into like a prince into a throne. Papa at his left hand and Dad at his right.

“Deep breaths, baby,” said Papa. “I’m gonna call Aunty Lup and get her to bring your teachers over here, one at a time.”

“It’s not going to be like this all the time,” soothed Dad. “You’re going to be okay, Chick. Breathe with me.”

It was easy, now that they were in a space that felt safer, was less loud, and had a deep calm to it. He could focus on his breaths. Centre himself with the help of the wickerwork basket of a chair, and its inherent, subtle creaking.

“Lulu’s got this,” Papa returned to kneeling on the moss. “Need a hug?”

Angus lunged into his Papa’s arms. His bracelets jingled as they wrapped around him. He let his world be Papa’s perfume and the soft texture of his clothes and the silky softness of his hair and the warmth of his skin.

Somewhere outside of the world that was Papa, Dad said, “Want some Calm Emotion?”

Angus shook his head. This place and the comfort of his parents was good enough to defuse the rising tension caused by the hubbub of the halls. Two more breaths and he was able to stop his shaking.

By that time, the first of his teachers had arrived in Aunty Lup’s tow. A kind-faced half-Elf woman with skin almost as dark as Dad’s.

“Hi there, Angus,” she singsonged. “Orientation’s a big noise, huh?”

Angus let himself relax into Papa’s lap. “It’s good, now. My family knows how to help me.”

“We’re prepared for this sort of thing,” assured the teacher, who introduced herself as Miss Terkiish. “No more than ten students per classroom, easy courtyard access and soft rooms if the need arises.”

“According to the hall monitors, things should be going quieter in about ten minutes,” said Aunty Lup. “We can time the rest of the tour for the lulls in noise.”

Angus felt safe enough to say, “That sounds like a great idea. Thank you.”


	88. Nonny Request #65

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> I love the circus au you wrote! Could we see more of it? Maybe more of Kri and Koko's friendship as it grows?
> 
> [AN: AU? Nah, fam, this is coherent with the twins’ expansion-pack history. But I can take it into AU turf if you like]

“Koko! Koko,wake up, it’s kitchen day!”

“Mmmuuurrrrrhhhhnnnn...” Koko complained. “Whyyyyy...”

“We gotta get started on breakfast, Koko,” insisted Kri. “That includes the wood-gathering.”

Koko cracked open one eye. Everything was grey. “’S not ev’n dawn,” he whined.

“They heard you can cook, bro-bro,” said Lulu from their shared bunk. “Time to pay the piper.”

“Mrrrnnngh,” Koko complained, hauling himself out of a relatively comfy bunk and a pocket of warm, mingling, sibling farts. “...don’ wanna be doing this,” he whined.

“Do what I did and burn everything,” mumbled Lulu.

“That’s always your solution.” He wrestled into a pair of pants and threw on a coat. “No professional standards,” Koko yawned. “Tha’s my stoopid sister f’r ya...”

Lulu mumbled something that could pass for the words, ‘dumb baby brother’ and rolled over.

Koko mumbled and slid into the warm boots. Like fuck was he going out wood-gathering at the crack of sparrow-fart without some kind of warm footwear. He didn’t bother taking his hair out of the braids he’d worn to sleep. It was too early in the morning to worry about his beauty regime.

Working with Kri wasn’t that bad. The son of the man that Koko was crushing hard on was a nice sort. Way too enthusiastic in the mornings, but everyone had their little flaws. They were pretty close in age, but it was evident what a difference having a parent had made in their lives.

Koko had a hard enough time protecting this sweet summer child from the harsh realities of life on the road. He didn’t need to tell this kid  _everything,_  after all. The less he knew about rummaging through middens for the next meal, the better. Besides, the circus was a sweet gig. No sense in ruining it for anyone else.

“Sometimes I wish I could have the freedom you do,” Kri was rambling as they brought the baskets of sticks back to the chuck wagon. “I mean, you set your own hours, make your own decisions, you don’t have to eat  _sprouts..._  It seems like you got it all.”

Because he was tired, he said, “Except a mom.”

Kri stopped stoking the ovens. “What?”

Well, shit. Now he’d stepped in it. “Uhm. Lulu and I... we’re the only family we got. There’s... been... more than a few times when we’d trade any freedom you think we have for... a guarantee that there’s someone to look after us, y’know.”

“But you’re allowed to  _smoke,”_  said Kri.

“More like nobody can stop us smoking,” corrected Koko. “We also got nobody to make sure we got soup and blankets when we’re sick. Or... hold us when we get nightmares. Or make us breakfast...”

“We’re making breakfast,” objected Kri. “It’s our turn.”

“Yeah. Uhm. Before... we joined your circus... there were no turns. It was cook or go hungry.”

“All by yourselves.”

Now he was getting it. “Yeah. All by ourselves. Nobody else.”

Kri was rearranging wood. “Nobody but your sister.”

“Yeah.”

“For how long?”

“Since we were twelve.”

Kri got back to work, after that. Stoking the fires and following Koko’s direction in regards to ingredients and what to do with them. Eventually, he said, “Let’s make my dad something special, okay?”

He was halfway towards doing that anyway. “Sure.”


	89. Nonny Request #66

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Taz prompt: Angus gets bullied at school, but hides it from Taako because he’s scared about him over reacting.

Angus stabled the deer he’d ridden and crept through the less obvious corridors of the farmhouse to his room. He needed his sanctuary right about now. Just a few minutes to breathe where nobody could  _get_  to him. Just time enough to centre himself. That was all he needed.

The smell of the old tree almost instantly soothed him. He nearly burst out in tears at the smell of Taako’s cooking, down in the big kitchen. One of his Welcome-home extravaganzas with all of Angus’ favourites and mood-boosters in the mix. Of course, too much for one small boy, two parents, and an aunt and uncle to devour alone, so friends of the family would be invited for an instant party.

Some of those friends had kids who also went to Miller Academy. Kids who knew  _everything._  Every little detail of every embarrassing thing that nobody could shut up about whenever he was in earshot.

Angus could just imagine what that party would turn into. It made him feel so very not hungry. Which was bad. He knew that intellectually. He also knew that he hadn’t been eating much at Miller’s either.

Angus didn’t want another caring lecture about proper nutrition from Taako. Especially not in front of anyone he went to school with. That sort of thing would spread like wildfire. He wouldn’t ever stop hearing it in mocking voice from anyone and everyone.

He huddled up on his bed, clutching at his stomach. He didn’t want this to happen, he didn’t want to feel sick, he didn’t want to dread the news of today and tonight reaching the Miller’s gossip mill. Yet... here he was, doing all of that.

Worse. Taako had  _noticed,_  and come upstairs. “Hey, boychick. Not feelin’ so good?”

Angus deduced that Taako had rolled high on his Perception and Investigation checks and was probably running an Insight check right now. Lying would be pointless, but he could still tell a very specific truth. “I don’t want a neighbourhood party tonight, sir.”

Shit. Fuck. He’d called Taako ‘sir’ instead of ‘Papa’. That was the deadest of dead give-aways. Now one of his adopted parentals  _knew_  that there was trouble.

Taako was the king of over-the-top reactions to literally everything. He would call down storms. If there was anything worse than being tormented, it was having a parent rescue you from being tormented.

That sort of thing  _never_  died down or went away.

“So who do you not want at the party?”

He was fishing. “Please don’t call down any wrath, sir...” Shit.  _Again._  He did it  _again._  “I couldn’t... I don’t... Please...”

Gentle hands ran through his hair. “Ango... Sweetheart... I’m not gonna do anything to anyone, I promise. I know how the pecking order goes in asshole schools. What’cha need is a means to get back at ‘em while looking completely innocent. So... who’s on your kill list?”

“I don’t want anyone killed!”

“Metaphor, metaphor. I promise.” Taako crossed his heart. “At least give me their usual routine.”

Explained at length, it didn’t sound as horrible as it felt, but it was what Taako referred to as making hag stones. One little drop of water didn’t do much, but dozens, day after day, year after year, could wear the heart out of anything. It had been a very hag-stone semester for Angus. Hour after hour, the concentrated effect of five drips had literally made him sick to think about it.

Papa Taako eased him through the episodes, using a little bit of magic, a little bit of comfort, and a lot of logic. Eventually, the beginnings of some plans hatched forth.

For now, not inviting them to the welcome-home bash was punishment enough.

For now.

Real justice, served at sub-zero temperatures, would happen later.


	90. Nonny Request #67

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Can we see what would have happened if Lup has stayed with Taako during his cooking show??? Like, she sees Sazed being mean to Taako and leading him on and eventually she does something bout it? Thanx!!!

It was the Conjoined Twin Act without the special shoe and the bespoke leggings. And more swearing and bickering, which always drew a laugh. Taako did the sparkles and the showy shit. Lup did the pyrotechnics. They both made fucking excellent food.

Taking it on the road was a stroke of genius. It meant that they would never be run out of town. They could run themselves out whenever the atmosphere turned bad. Not that there was much sign of that. The crowds absolutely loved them.

Lup couldn’t exactly remember who sponsored the Stage Coach or the merchandise deal, but they were moving so fast that neither of them could keep up with the demand for autographs. Lup grinned at her brother, who grinned back. They knew better than to say it, but this was it. This was them finally getting out of the gutter. This was their path to better things.

“Hello, again, gorgeous,” cooed Taako. “This is your third show. Like what you see?”

Lup sized him up in a cold second. Doughy boy. As far from gorgeous as he could get. No doubt Taako was attracted to the insurance that he would survive a winter or two and the fact that he would be less likely to run away.

“Uh. Uh. Are you the girl one?”

Okay. That lost him some points. More than a few, in fact.  _“I’m_  the girl one,” she iced. “So what?”

He blushed. “Uhm. You... look... really identical.”

Taako sensed the inherent problems at last and said, “Yeah we were born identical, but Lup decided to make a few improvements.”

There it was. That uncertain look. The once over. The sudden dawning of abject fear. Taako saw it too. This loser went from plausible companion to absolute nope in the tiniest moment.

“What’s your name, handsome?” said Taako, now completely feigning interest.

“Uhm. Sazed. Baker. I’m Sazed Baker.”

“Fuck off, Sazed Baker,” they said in unison.

They didn’t think about him again for their entire six-year tour of Faerun. They didn’t even recognise him when he turned up in Glamour Springs.

They knew who he was when he sabotaged the show, though. Using a simple cantrip to foul the food and give forty people food poisoning. Sure, he burned for it, but the Taaco & Taaco show was burned with him.

They never got to keep anything nice.

Back on the run. Back on the road. Back to the fucking gutters. Again. With luck, in three years or so, nobody would know who they were and they could start over.

“We can deal with this,” she insisted, huddled in a burrow. “Just a few years out of sight. No big. We’ll be back up on top.”

“Sure,” Taako lied. “Back on top. Easy.”

Lup rolled her eyes. Most of her time would get eaten by propping his pessimistic ass up for the duration.


	91. Nonny Request #68

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> How about a prompt where Angus tends to make himself scarce at the BOB during an approaching holiday, because the stress of holidays brought out his parents’ anger, and Taako finds out.

Spring Carnival was a time for celebration. Wearing flowers, dancing, bright colours and any excuse for fireworks was a good one in Taako’s mind. Fresh fruit and feasting and a good dance or three to shake off any lingering winter funk.

He had flowers in his hat and woven into his hair, wearing something bright and flowy and sparkly enough to attract any jackdaws that might be living on the moon.

Everyone was having a good time. Even “permanent bummer” Johann was smiling as he played a lively tune for the carnival crowds.

Well. Almost everyone. His apprentice wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Taako checked the rides, the food stalls, the games of skill and cunning... Nowhere at all. Which struck Taako as kind of odd. When  _he_  was a kid, he leaped at the chance to be in on the big parties. Spring festival, harvest festival, candlenights, you name it. He was all over the place and gorging himself on sweet treats.

Yet Angus wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

Come to think of it, he’d been conspicuously absent during Candlenights as well, only turning up for the presents and beating a hasty retreat as the party came to a crashing halt.

Now he was nowhere to be seen during Spring Carnival, too. Something, therefore, had to be up. Taako grabbed a go-box of commissary chicken soup,  _almost_  as good as his own and a flower crown and headed off to Ango’s little flat.

Ango answered the door.

“Oh, so you’re not sick,” said Taako. “And here I am with chicken soup, looking ridiculous.” He swanned in, leaving the flower crown on the kid’s head, and added the box to Ango’s Fantasy Refrigerator. “What’s your excuse this time, then?”

Angus was untangling the crown from his curls. “Excuse, sir?”

“You were barely there for Candlenights, and now you’re playing possum for Spring Carnival. What the fuck? It’s free food and all the rides you can eat out there.”

“Oh, I just... prefer to stay in for the holidays, sir.”

Taako felt his brow. Nope. Not feverish. “You’re a child. Holidays were made for children.”

“I’m of adult age in some circles, sir.”

“Yeah, Gerblins and Kobolds’ circles. What’s the real dirt, D’angus? Dish.”

Shrug. “It’s just... stressful, sir.”

“Stressful,” echoed Taako. “Candy apples and roller coasters is stressful?”

“No, sir, it’s all the yelling and fighting.” Angus realised what he’d just oh-so-casually said and clapped his hands over his mouth. “Please don’t tell anyone I said that. My parents would be mad. They work so hard on getting things right for the holidays, it’s totally my fault I add to that by getting underfoot all the time...”

Taako raised an eyebrow. “Keep digging, you might reach Fantasy China.”

“Wait,” said Angus. “That’s  _not_  normal?” He almost had the flower crown free of his head.

Taako re-seated the thing on his head. “No arguing or fighting out there, homie. If you want, I could escort you around so you can see for yourself.”

“I-I-I’m not... I don’t-- I’m not sure...”

Taako gripped his skinny shoulder and bent down to his eye level. “Sooner or later, you have to face your fears, kiddo. Face them, or they’ll face you.”

Angus made a face. “Isn’t that the opposite of  _know when to cut and run,_  sir?”

“It’s a corollary,” Taako allowed. “C’mon. I’ll be your bodyguard and you can tap out when you’re feeling gross. Deal?”

Angus said, “Deal,” and took Taako’s arm.

Twenty minutes into the carnival, the kid forgot about his death grip on Taako’s arm. In another half hour, he was off and having fun on his own.

Taako kept an eye on him anyway. It just wouldn’t  _do_  to have his apprentice have a meltdown in public view.

That’s what he told himself, and that’s what he’d tell anyone who was invasive enough to ask.


	92. Nonny Request #69 (nice)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> It's time for the Baby Birds AU to be introduced to the world
> 
> [AN: Yet another instance of @dualityandsuch egging me on because she’s the only one who knows what the Baby Birds AU even is. I see you hiding there. So. In brief:
> 
>  
> 
> * The Hunger doesn’t exist  
> * The Relics don’t exist  
> * Bureau of Benevolence does?  
> * August McDonald adopted Killian [MAYBE?]  
> * Killian marries Carey Fangbattle  
> * They adopt tiny twins - BB Lup & Taako [Lulu and Koko] age 8-10?  
> * They get Sellsnow Farm via estate auction from the lingering Starlights [Grunkle Taako’s kids & grandkids] who have already disavowed relation to the twins because assholes  
> * The estate wards don’t react to the twins and the Sweetflips Moms work out what’s up. Fortunately, legal adoption includes them into the family.  
> * Surviving Starlights sued for fraud (they deserve it) which funds the estate restoration back to the country farm it once was.  
> * Twins grow into young teens via Terrible Elf Larvae Shenanigans. BB Lup transitions as soon as her nature is confirmed [like one year after she realises who she is] and the family budget takes a suckerpunch because the spell is hella expensive.  
> * Carey and Killian take turns adventuring, alternating with raising their Elf Larvae. Include Elf Practice gag  
> * Teen Twins in some kind’a boarding school that isn’t quite hell but is pretty snobbish and has some shitty rules that the twins don’t like [because of course]  
> * Somewhere in the previous three points, the Twins start getting into solving crimes somehow.  
> * Tell their tales to Young!Lucretia, who chronicles their tall tales and turns them into an adventure series called The Terrific Twins.  
> * Series is a fucking hit. Whoops.  
> * BB Angus shows up. 4YO sweet baby genius, picked on because orphan in cardboard shoes.   
> * L&T remember their time in a govt foster shelter and adopt the boy at school. Take him home for Candlenights  
> * Moms find out that this might not be a legal thing to do, contact the school and find out that nobody really cares for this sweet, tiny orphan boy.  
> * Boom. Third child. Babyest brother. Grats, kiddo, you got two moms, two big siblings, and all four of them are gonna teach you how to cook, ride deer, and speak a lot more languages than you bargained on. Yay!  
> * Terrific Twins becomes Terrific Trio. More proactive since they’re no longer stumbling into trouble, but actively finding it thanks to genius babyest brother being a detective.  
> * Somehow run into Magnus on an adventure. He’s “the dog”.  
> * Merle is the shitty teacher who really shouldn’t be teaching. Chief reason why the Trio can scoot out of school and get up to shenanigans.  
> * Principal Davenport initially tries to stop them, or at least make it clear that this sort of horseshit is Dangerous Beans and they are children… Children deserve safety, etc. etc.  
> * When Angus argues, “Isn’t helping to capture criminals making the world safer, sir?” Dav just… gives up. Starts helping them both covertly and overtly.  
> * Carey and Killian are both impressed and horrified. Can and will show up to rescue their doofus kids. “For people who are so smart, you lot find yourselves in a LOT of dumb situations.”  
> * Encounter Krav and Barry whilst investigating MegaBigBad. Lup has crush on Nerdy young Barold and gets shy and flustered. Taako and Krav pretty much double-entendre battle from the get-go.  
> * Love reforms the villains arc. More accurately, love reforms the minions of the villains and they find a way to get around MegaBigBad’s threats [possibly by short-circuiting them?] {Honestly, is there a villain threat that can’t be completely dissolved by coming clean and being determined to be a better person in future?}  
> * Random shenanigans henceforth with all the faves, fluff, cuddles, and smooches for all!  
> * And that’s the plan for the entire thing. This is just a little snippet.]

“…doonts, doonts durn-dun, doonts, doonts durn-dun…”

“Koko, stop singing your own theme music.”

“Shuttup.”

“You shuttup,” said Lulu.

A muffled voice from within Koko’s bag said, “Please, sir and ma’am, could you both hush?”

The twins instinctively clapped their hands on each others’ mouths. Right. They had to do this without their moms finding out. Or at least, they had to do this without their moms finding out  _right now._  Bickering about shit was the easiest way for two hyper-competent super-agents from the Bureau of Benevolence to find out that their adopted kids were stealing babies before they were anywhere close to Elven maturity.

They shared a telepathic Look, and got on with sneaking an orphan into their home.

Angus McDonald, four-year-old orphan, was in the pocket spa inside Koko’s bag of holding. With any luck, he would remain undetectable to the estate wards until he was somehow officially adopted into the family.

They were still working on that part of the plan, to be honest. Hell, they were still working on step one - get Angus inside the wards without their moms finding out.

They made it into the house, proper, a gigantic construction moulded into a living tree by generations of Elves over possibly millennia. So far, so good. They used the less-popular pathways to get to their room, and finally opened the pocket spa once behind that particular closed door.

Angus emerged, soaking wet and heavily perfumed. “Thank goodness. Everything was spilling in there.”

“So take a bath in the ensuite,” said Koko.

“We got some old clothes you can use,” added Lulu.

“We’ll smuggle you some food in a few.”

“Hell, we’ll cook you some food, babe.”

Koko wrapped the dripping boy up in a large towel and an equally big hug. “It’s gonna be okay, kiddo. We promise.”

*

Killian saw everything. The twins cooking way more than they usually would, even for a post-school feast. Loading up bowls and containers with enough to feed maybe three people or more.

She didn’t confront her kids, but rather went to her wife Carey, who was busy with post-mission paperwork in her office.

“The twins are up to something,” she said.

“It’s  _them,_  said Carey. “When are they  _not_  up to something?”

“Wanna make sure it’s nothing nefarious?”

“Only if you fill out the rest of this field report for me.”

“Done and done.”

“You certainly have been,” she high-fived Killian on the way out, and went Stealth.

*

Softly, softly, catchee… two young Elves who had a habit of finding trouble before it was lost. Carey was quieter than a shadow as she crept after the twins. It had been half a decade since she’d last caught them at something nefarious, so they were way beyond due. Either that or they were getting better at being completely sneaky.

She didn’t know whether to be proud of them or pissed off.

“Feeling better, kiddo?” That was Koko.

“Yes, sir, thank you. These clothes kind’a fit where they touch, though, sir.” That… was a complete stranger. A very young sounding complete stranger.

“I’ll find you something with drawstrings, babe, gimmie a mo,” that was Lulu.

“Wow, ma’am, I’ll never be able to eat all  _that,”_  said the suspiciously young stranger.

“That’s what all the Preservation Boxes are for. So you’re like… set whenever you’re hungry,” said Lulu.

“Boom. Instant food security,” said Koko.

_Aw shit,_  thought Carey. She moved closer to their room. Okay. So. They had someone with them, and that someone was likely hungry. Someone who didn’t belong here. Yet.

Since they sounded so young, they had to come from Miller Academy.

_They’re too young to be stealing babies, what the hell are they up to?_

In just a few more steps, she saw for herself.

There was a very small half-elven lad, darker in hue than the twins, somewhere in the middle of some old clothing that was one good sneeze away from falling off him. Which only made him look even smaller.

There were the twins, getting him to try samples of their cooking. Being good hosts but not -say- early bloomers who had had an ‘interesting episode’ and come home with a freshly-adopted kid.

Nope. They were going for a more defacto adoption.  _He followed us home and he needs one, moms. Can we keep him?_  Yeah. This was seventeen colours of bad.

Carey cleared her throat, causing the twins to jump in front of the young stranger in a protective manner. “You have five minutes to explain yourselves, kids. Then we’re calling Miller’s.”

“Please don’t send me back in there, ma’am, the twins only brought me here because I didn’t wanna go back to the orphanage.”

Well shit. He’d just said the magic words. “All of you. Living room. Family discussion.

Lulu patted the kid on the shoulder and said, “Chin up. We’re not dead yet.”

Yikes. Now  _that_  was a blast from the past…

*

“Miller Academy, what’s the sitch?”

“Yeah, this is Killian Fangbattle. One of Lulu and Koko’s moms? Yeah. Uhm. Our two came back home with a third? Are you missing anyone? Like… who’s supposed to be staying there?”

Merle flipped through some paperwork. “Oh. Uh. We only have one kid who was staying. Angus… McDonald. Orphanage kid on the grant.”

“So he is from the orphanage? We’re not in any legal trouble for having him at our place, are we?”

Merle looked at the paperwork with a magnifying glass. “They won’t even miss him, and we won’t either. Tell you what. You keep him for the holidays and we can send you a cut of what the orphanage is paying us to keep him out of their halls.”

The caller hung up.

*

Killian slammed the Stone of Farspeech onto the counter. It took all her strength not to swear. Ten deep breaths. She had to control her anger around a kid from the orphanages. It never did to be angry around kids like that.

“Okay,” she said at length. “Carey? Babe? We’re having another baby.”


	93. Nonny Request #70

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anonymous asked:
> 
> Can we see more of Taako and Lup in the circus?

[Super huge thanks to [@dualityandsuch](https://tmblr.co/myuKMv_8oh6R4J-xzrdtv0A) for the lovely arts]

Life was good, working with a circus. Regular meals, so long as they didn’t mind doing the cooking. Cameraderie and companionship on a level only fellow villains could understand. The only downside was that villager people didn’t exactly trust carnie types and they trusted Elven carnie types even less.

Lulu and Koko were with a Sea Elf called La’ming Tonn, a ‘rescue’ from a far worse circus who didn’t know what kind of talent they’d had. She’d been with Mongomery’s Amazing Circus for two years and had grown into her confidence like kudzu into a neglected lot. Gossip had it that she was saving her spare shekels to get a Restoration spell or five and regain the losses caused by having her ears docked by her previous employer.

On the plus side, it meant she didn’t have to work very hard on Disguise Self. Just a simple change of her natural blue skin tone for a more Human-acceptable brownish beige, and making sure her hair or scarf covered the obvious difference between herself and the humanmen around them. On the minus side…

She, and some other Elves in the troupe could easily tell that Lulu and Koko were minors and would not let them out into the towns for any sort of shenanigans.

The other minus side was having to drag along Borstok, one of the circus roustabouts, to stand around and Be Human so that the local City Watch wouldn’t drag them off for Shopping While Elven.

The Xenophobia Wars may have ended, but the attitude that started them was alive and well and threatening to start another round.

La’ming could pass as Human. The twins could not.  _They_  were there to hand out flyers to passers-by and otherwise look like respectable Elven citizens who were just passing through. They were not to pick pockets,  _Koko,_  set things on fire,  _Lulu,_  or try on any hustles or scams,  _both of you._  They were also there to be certain La’ming didn’t flirt with any married people of any given gender.

It had all been going so good, talking hat designs with the local milliner, a half-Elf of Moon Elf origins called Mak’arune. The twins had been peering through the window at some of the Fascinators when the Watch turned up.

“Good morrow, madames and sir,” said the spokesman. “It is my duty to inform you Elves that assemblies of three or more peoples are unlawful by decree of the Duke of Westingstoke under the Riot Act of the Year of the Concussed Whelk[1].”

Koko was the first to whirl in alarm. “Where the fuck is Borstok?”

“Any further disruptive language will be treated as Public Indecency.”

The twins clapped their hands over each other’s mouths. And then La’ming really put her foot in it. She primped her vibrantly red hair and said, “Hello, there handsome. I’m pretty certain there’s been a misunderstanding. Perhaps I can clear some air?” She showed them her docked ears. Purely by accident, of course, but they could see that she wasn’t Human.

The official charge was Unlawful Assembly, but three out of four Elven folk knew that they’d been arrested for Shopping While Elven. The worst part was that they’d dispersed La’ming’s Disguise Self and revealed her blue skin to the world. Therefore adding a charge of minor fraud to the sheet.

They had been in the Ranratton City Watch Cell for half an hour and Mak’arune had yet to stop her wailing hysteria.

Lulu was propping up the wall. Koko was sitting on the single bunk and holding his head up while he watched Mak’arune pace and cry. La’ming was evaluating the cell like a professional. “New straw mattress. Decent bed frame construction. Clean cell. No rats. Maybe four tin cups out of a potential six.”

“Five silver says she faints before she stops crying,” muttered Lulu.

Koko sat up a little from his huddle. “You even  _got_  five silver?”

“Monty gave it to us for shopping,” said Lulu. “Get ourselves a little treat.”

“Well I ain’t got five silver.”

“Loan it to you.”

Koko went back to his huddle, only moving his eyes as he watched Mak’arune wail, flail, and pace along the wall and back.

“I am going,” said Koko at length, “to fucking  _stew_  Borstok.”

“Hush-hush,” said La’ming. “They can still charge you with offensive language.”

Koko swapped to _Us_  and cussed up a storm. They couldn’t get him for cussing if they didn’t  _know_  he was cussing. Only Lulu could understand what he was saying and was reacting more like he was telling a joke than turning the air blue with invective.

Four hours of utter boredom later, Montgomery Pithon, owner of the circus and actual Naga. They could tell he was arriving by the way the City Watch looked incredibly alarmed and at least one of them ran for the weapons lock-up.

Lulu could recognise the voices of his Ringmaster, Borstock, and two other Humanmen from the crew. Vellos and Brinn. Monty had brought out the big guns. Or rather, the biggest, most muscular Humanmen he had on hand to make an impressive show of things.

As if a large, black and red Naga wasn’t impressive enough.

Koko stood and switched back to Common. “Monty’s here.”

Lulu leaped away from the wall and clung to the bars. “Monty! Monty, we didn’t do anything!”

Mak’arune turned towards the bars, took a great, big, shuddering gasp… and fainted dead away.

La’ming lunged off the bed and caught her before she could hurt herself.

“MONTY!”

“MONTY!”

There he was. The man himself. If you could call a Naga who could stand at seven feet tall a ‘man’. He worked out, so his arms and chest carried impressive muscles. All under a pseudomilitary ringmaster’s jacket. What he was not wearing was his top hat, because that was resting on top of Koko’s head.

“I see you’ve been looking after my hat,” said Montgomery, retrieving it through the bars.

“I was gonna get my own, but we got arrested for doing nothing,” Koko complained.

Montgomery noticed Mak’arune. “Who’s the unfortunate maiden on the floor?”

“You know La’ming, boss,” cheered Lulu.

La’ming said, “This was supposed to be our milliner. Mak’arune. Our entire business day is shot to heck.” She patted Mak’arune at her face. “Come, love. Wakey wakey, now. It’s only our boss…”

Mak’arune whimpered and clung to La’ming.

Lulu elbowed Koko, and muttered,  _“I ship it,”_  in  _Us._

Montgomery glared at her. He didn’t understood their twin tongue, but automatically assumed they were swearing. “Quite,” he iced. “I trust my party will be allowed to purchase some  _hats_  from your excellent milliner, Lady Mak’arune?”

The nervous Watch, realising that their harassment had turned into a parade, nervously nodded and let them go.

They’d have to do at least one more performance to sell the tickets to refill the circus’ Bail Fund.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Borrowed liberally from Australian gold rush history where the Riot Act prevented groups of three or more persons and declared them Unlawful Assembly. Fun times.


	94. Reader Request #19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dualityandsuch said:  
> If you aren't burned out on the circus, can we get some raunchy stories from La'Ming? Maybe throw some Monty in there because he is a good snake boy. The twins can be there too I guess.

The extra performances would have to wait until they hit the next town and they would all be praying that they wouldn’t need it until long after then. For now, the focus was on packing everything up for an expeditious retreat from Ranratton.

The twins, the usual barometer for this kind of exodus, had already packed up everything they owned into their caravan. Therefore, they were helping pack up the mermaid act with La’ming. None of them were dressed to impress and La’ming took that particular creed to heart. She hadn’t even changed out of her sleepwear: a pair of briefs and a loose half-shift and nothing else. She  _had_  washed her hair and hadn’t taken it out of the towel wrapped around her head for hours.

Currently, her hair was in a scruffy bun and she had slipped into storytelling mode. As long as they gave a cursory effort to packing, things would be allowed to persist.

“…so there I am, in my knickers. Three Orcs, a Drow, and five Gnomes surrounding me, and I only had the feather fans,” La’ming said to her enthralled audience: two underaged Elves who could almost feel the way this story was going to go, and were praying that they’d actually hear it this time. “So I said to the Drow, I said–” La’ming frowned, looking outside the tent. “What the fuck does she think she’s  _doing?”_

Koko looked to Lulu, who shrugged. At that exact moment, there was a rather familiar screaming howl of immense upset. The twins knew it by heart. They had, after all, heard it for almost five hours in the Ranratton Watch Cell.

Mak’arune was having a nervous breakdown out on the larger fairgrounds. Largely because she had what looked like her entire life to date packed, piled entirely too high and definitely precariously on a tiny dolly trolly that was never made to roll anywhere over grass and packed dirt. She was in a ridiculously overblown dress and an equally overblown hat, trying to shove the overloaded dolly trolley another inch or two, and currently having a very tearful breakdown.

Koko took all of this in and said, “I’ll fetch Monty, you do the girl thing.”

“Girl thing?” boggled Lulu.

He pointed. “That’s no-man’s land, dingus. I go out there, I’m dead. Go be girls together. Fuck. I’m getting the boss, this is totally over my head. I’m gone.” To prove his point, he took off out of the tent and towards the greater mass of the disassembling circus, screaming for Monty the whole way.

Lulu looked up to La’ming, who was perched on one of the larger cases.

La’ming rolled her eyes and hopped down. “Fine. Let’s go mop her up.”

* * *

 

Montgomery could almost tell the story from the scene he encountered. The mousy, shrinking violet of a milliner had either decided or been forced to leave town. She packed everything she owned onto the only transport she had - a tiny dolly trolley that had never shifted a couch in its life. Which was now underneath a literal pile of boxes and some pieces of furniture, and some brand-new suitcases.

Mak’arune was miserable, flanked by La’ming and Lulu. The former had a scarf draped across her front that she couldn’t be convinced to wear by any other living being.

Everyone in his circus knew that La’ming’s evening half-shift was transparent as hell and showed everything underneath. Everyone knew better than to look when La’ming was dressed down. Therefore, someone in this triumvirate had convinced her to put it on and Lulu had never had the chops.

Therefore, mousy, shy, understated Mak’arune simply had some form of power that three hundred and forty people didn’t possess. Which instantly gave her worth to anyone tired of seeing La’ming’s boobs on her ‘dress down’ days.

He lowered himself to somewhere below Mak’arune’s eyeline and said, “What has happened here?” in the softest, gentlest voice he could muster.

“My reputation’s ruined,” Mak’arune wailed. “I’ve got a criminal record and my business is over and there’s nothing left so…” gasp sob. Lots more sobbing.

Lup patted her shoulder ineffectually. “She’s got nowhere to go and all of this shit,” and gestured at the overloaded dolly. “It’s… kind of our fault she’s like this, so…”

“We have to at least set her on her feet somewhere that’s… less…” La’ming gestured back towards Ranratton and trailed off.

“Less of a racist mud-hole?” suggested Koko.

“Tha’s–” hic, “that’s–” hic, “that’s my only ho-ho-hoooommme…”

Koko gestured wildly. “You see?” he said above the hubbub, “You see? I come out here, I’m dead.”

“Only because you keep trying to eat your foot, goofus,” said Lulu.

Montgomery gently took one of her hands and patted it gently. “Miss Mak’arune… you are welcome to come with us until such time as you find greener pastures.”

“I’ll never keep up,” she bawled. “I’ll be left in the gutter!”

Montgomery shared a Look with La’ming, and the twins.  _Yes, she’s a wet hen, but she’s also our problem._

“There’s a bunk space in the costume cart,” said Koko. “That’s where we hid before the Chuck Wagon Incident.”

Monty glared at him. “So that’s where you two were squirrelled away… Explains… quite a few things.”

“What about her stuff?” protested Lulu. “She’s got her stock and half her house on there.”

Monty sighed and said, “I’ll have a chat with Rynmaru and Kustaad. They have some space. We can manage some wriggle room until she can get a caravan or a cart for all…” he looked up. And up. And up, to where a stool was perched precariously on a table, which was nebulously resting on several hatboxes.

She was an excellent milliner… she likely had the core skills… “Miss Mak’arune… we have a rather urgent need for a costumer. Perhaps, while we sort out where to stow your belongings, you could have a look at some of the worst cases and see what you can do?”

That huge hat of hers had to be her own work. It was also her own advertising. Everything she did to that hat, she could do with outfits. Well. Maybe not with all the dead birds and silk flowers…

His wife was going to kill him for adopting another lost soul.


	95. Reader Request #20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> QueenKara671 said:   
> This was really good, like always! Fucking Sazed.  
> Do you think you could do a chapter where they're having a karaoke night and Angus or Magnus or someone is really nervous to sing but they're finally convinced and they have an amazing voice? I dunno it just popped into my head and I thought it'd be cool.

There were more than enough nights on the moon base when everyone wanted to cut loose and relax. All work and no play and all that nonsense. Which naturally lead to Board Game Night, Movie Night, the BOB talent show... and... this...

"Ee kan leeeeeeeee... ilibby dibby doubt'chuuuuuuuuu..." Taako was at the mike, and killing it in more ways than one. "Ee kan leeee... ee kan leeeeb anie mooooo-oooo-oore..."

"What is he singing, sirs?" asked Angus McDonald, boy detective and adoptee of the entire fucking moon.

"EE KAN LEEEEEEEEEEEEEE..."

"He  _says_ it's a traditional Elven ballad," rumbled Merle. "I say he doesn't know the words."

"ILIBBY DIBBY DOUBT'CHUUUUUUU..."

"Yeah, that's not Elven," said Magnus. "I dunno what it  _is_ but it ain't Elven."

Taako struck a pose as the music faded out, waiting out the polite applause.

Merle got up next, saying, "At least I know the words."

"Yeah, they scroll across the Screen of Prompting down there," said Magnus with mocking helpfulness. "Sure you got your reading glasses, old man."

Grumble grumble grumble. He stomped off towards the stage. Just in time, Taako swooped into his vacated chair. He had an ornate drink dripping with extras. He pulled out an olive on a plastic sword and ate it. "What about you, little man? You got a favourite song you wanna sing?"

"Oh I'm fine listening to everyone else, sir."

"That's not what I asked, kiddo." Taako took more than a few sips of his drink. "I asked if you got a favourite song."

"You also asked if I wanted to sing, sir, and that's a definite 'no'."

Taako leaned in, absently munching fruit from his enormously overblown cocktail. "So let's break this up, then. You got a favourite song?"

Angus blushed. "Yessir... I'd rather not name it, though."

"I'm just happy it exists, hombre. So do you sing it when you're alone? Like in the shower or whatever?"

Mumbled, "...i don't sing, sir."

"No? Neither does Merle and he's going off," Taako gestured at the Dwarf on stage, who was rendering -as in 'to tear asunder'-  _Pan-imaniacs._ So far, he hadn't hit a single note. "This isn't about skill, it's about having fun."

Angus shook his head, shrinking in on himself. "...i don't sing..."

"Why?" said Taako, clearly implying that he was prepared to ask that one question for the rest of time.

Angus, who had been through this before, sighed and rolled his eyes. "I was always... discouraged from trying, sir."

"Anyone here who's been doing that, pumpkin?"

That was something more of a revelation. "Uhm. No. Those people are not here, sir."

"So... what's stopping you?"

The good thing about working on the moon was that nobody knew he was up here and cared much about what he was doing. "I-- I'll see if they have it." Most places like that didn't have the obscure stuff that he loved. Oh drat. They had it. Which meant, with Taako watching, that he pretty much had to put himself onto the list.

He could do this. He could really do this. It was only his coworkers and Merle's performance was living proof that nobody cared how much anyone sucked.

His heart was in his mouth as he stepped up to the mic. Three people helped adjust it to his height before the music started playing. Taako waved from the table he shared with his team and shouted, "Knock 'em dead, pumpkin!"

Three deep breaths. Angus closed his eyes. Put his mouth to the mic. And sang the words he knew off by heart.  _"One way or another, I'm gonna find ya/ I'm gonna get ya, get ya, get ya, get ya/ One way or another..."_

Taako was right. This was about having fun. Nervousness and anxiety faded away as the song got to him and he got into it. There was just him and the song and the singing.

It was only when the music ended that he realised that the entire karaoke lounge was dead quiet. He stood there, like a deer in the headlights, and found Taako in the audience. Doing his best Stunned Mullet impersonation.

"Yeah, anyway, thanks and goodnight," he mumbled, making to rush offstage.

The audience exploded with noise. Cheers, whistles, whoops, and at least Taako crowing, "That's my boy! That's my boy!"

Magnus started a chant, "Ango, Ango,  ****Ango, Ango..."

Madam director stood up and gestured for silence from the crowd. An effort that took her more than a few minutes. "Now, I know some of you still want to sing, but I do believe we have a winner."

Angus waited for the cheers to die down. "There's no need to patronise me, ma'am. I know I wasn't that great..."

"Are you shitting me?" said Johann. "Your voice is fucking amazing, kid."

It took him five goes to understand. People thought he had an amazing singing voice. Better than anyone else in the bureau.

Taako leaned on him as he asked, "Got any other faves, kiddo?"

[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 10]


	96. Nonny Request #71

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Could we see more of the twins' expansion pack past?
> 
> [AN: more or less directly following from Kitchen Fight here on AO3]

Criminals were a superstitious and cowardly lot. Likewise, so were performers. Therefore, the cast and crew of Montgomery Pithon’s Amazing Circus were  _doubly_  superstitious and cowardly as any of the two previous groups. He had something of a story. He had to have reserve stories.

People loved stories. So far, the miraculous appearance of two Sun Elves was goon enough, but sooner or later, questions would be asked. He had to act quickly.

There should be some spare clothing about their size  _somewhere_  in the costume cart. He snagged the most sympathetic and gullible person who had finished their food. Lammerly. “I’m certain we’d like our new guests to feel welcome. There’s room for a couple of bunks in my office trailer, but clean clothes of good quality won’t go amiss. You savvy?”

Lammerly’s eyes went wide. “Oooh. Yes! Should I make them some spiced honey milk? The fae folk  _love_  spiced honey milk. It’ll make them feel welcomed for sure.”

Monty sprained something making the effort to not roll his eyes. “Sure. Clothes first, of course. Then the beverages. They are, after all, still eating.” He glanced over to his trailer, where the twins had finished their plates and had begun on his neglected one.

He could deal with one less meal. They clearly couldn’t. He slithered towards the chuck wagon to round up a big bowl of leftovers. Not that that was very much. A gratefully hungry crew had only left scrapings inside the containers.

Montgomery added a heel of bread and an armload of apples to the haul before slithering back to the twins. “I guessed you might be hungry,” he said, depositing the bounty before them. “Fill those empty bellies. Then we’ll get some bedrolls installed in my office,” he gestured at the cart.

“Where the money is?” said one.

“No,” said Montgomery, five steps ahead of them already.

*

It was a state that didn’t last long. The twins over-ate, then made pigs of themselves with the spiced honey milk. So naturally they were more than a little regretful about that before the night ended.

“...ooooOoOOooooOOOOoooogh...”

“While I’m inclined to advise you take it easy,” said Montgomery. “There’s an entire camp that would like breakfast. I can carry you gently there if you like.”

“...ithinki’mgunnabesick...”

“We’ll be packing up and moving out,” Montgomery advised. They had slept in their new clothes. Of course they had. “So a light, quick breakfast is advisable.”

He piggy-backed them to the chuck wagon, where the twins did a few interesting things with toast and eggs. Their bickering was greatly reduced, that morrow. A state that would definitely not last long.

Inside of two days, they started getting into stuff. They rifled through Montgomery’s office and found nothing more interesting than maps and paperwork.

He glared them down until they started putting everything back.

The instant the circus hit the next town, he had a "beginner’s act” for the twins. It didn’t take a lot of talent. Anyone could do it. “Tell me,” he said. “Have either of you heard of the Wild Man of Bor’ne’o?”

They hadn’t. He explained it. All they had to do was wear “Wild Man” costumes in a prop cage in the sideshow, talk amongst themselves in their own language, and occasionally snarl at the visitors who paid a silver to come gawk at them.

Low light conditions would help, since their odd eyes would glow in those circumstances. It would also hide the fact that their hair would be dressed to  _look_  like it was unkempt and riddled with sticks and assorted debris.

The story of the mysterious wild Elves would be heavily embellished, and the barkers would play it up for all they were worth. Meanwhile, some of the those with less to do would be making ridiculously simple ‘witch eye’ shields out of cardboard, sticks, and coloured cellophane.

Cheap, disposable, and sold for profit enough to make twice as many when the day was done. The frames included some horseshit sigils around the edge.

The rubes ate it up. Good news.

The twins were unnervingly good at it. Not so good news. On one hand, they were brilliant. On the other hand, that meant they were going to get bored.

The twins were going to need  _training._

Montgomery was going to have to come up with some horseshit so that his crew would be willing to  _teach_  these kids.

Fuck.


	97. Nonny Request #72

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said:  
> Did Angus have any crushes before he met Agatha, and if so could you explore that?

Love doesn’t bloom in isolation. We learn to love as we learn our capacity for it. There’s the usual gamut of distant fandom though terrifying crushes and missed opportunities, to actually gaining the confidence to pursue love.

It’s a rocky path to tread. Unrequited love, bad matches, good matches with bad timing, and those who predate on those who crave love. Fortunately for Angus McDonald, young adult detective, he had a family who could see the warning signs and at least protect him from the worst of it.

Well. As much as any family could do so, anyway.

She appeared to perfect. Perfect hair. Perfect style. Perfect look. She worked in a salon and Angus met her briefly in the coffee shop he had temporary employ in.

She would rattle off her order like a song and Angus’ job involved having it ready as soon as possible. He had it timed perfectly. Viente soy latte with two shots of no-sugar caramel and no-fat whip. He could start it going when she was within five spaces in the queue and have it ready a bare minute after she ordered.

He always carried it to her table, and the conversation was always the same. “Your coffee, miss. Viente soy latte with two shots of no-sugar caramel and no-fat whip. Can I offer you a discount doughnut, muffin, or biscotti?” It was his job to say that.

She didn’t look at him, busy with her makeup or her Stone of Farspeech. She’d grab her coffee and sashay out of there.

Today, though, she spoke to him.

“Euw.  _No...”_  and then she walked off again in her perfect shoes with her perfect dress and her perfect nails with her perfect coffee.

Angus didn’t care about the attitude. All that mattered was that she spoke to him. Two words wasn’t much, he had to admit, but people had to start somewhere. Which meant that he had a greater hope for the next day. And the next week. And the next month.

He always felt stupid around her. All he had was his lines, and she had said a sum total of two words to him. So far.

It ended when he had another growth spurt and bulked up practically overnight. Taako was horrified and having a conniption about it for the entire year. Sending him unhelpful messages like,  _STOP GROWING!_  and other words to that effect.

This time, she looked at him. “Hey,” she said. “How did you get the job away from the kid?”

Angus’ world crumbled. “I am that kid, miss,” he said. “I’ve been working here every weekday afternoon for almost two years.”

She gave him the once-over, read his nametag, and compared his face with the wall loaded with Employees of the month. “Oh,” she said. And then, “Whoah.”

Angus said, “I had a crush on you for a while. Talk about ships that pass in the night, right?”

She said, “I thought you were a barista, not a sailor.”

That was when he knew. She may look perfect, but she was far from his ideal partner. He told Taako that he’d been right about her the whole time.


	98. Reader Request #21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FoxNinja on Chapter 90:  
> I don't remember the chapter, but you think we can get a reason as to why Susan left for 3 months and why she decided to leave her kid with Taako? What exactly was she doing?
> 
> [AN: That was Chapter 75]

"But Janice..." Susan complained as she paced. "I have a very involved life here. I can't just drop everything," she looked up the transit schedules anyway. "It'd take me a week just to get to you anyway."

"Mom can stay for a week," allowed Janice. "I still need someone to look after me while I'm laid up."

"For how long?" Susan was rummaging through her drawers now. Packing underwear. Packing clothes for the journeys. Packing the little essentials.

"Two and a half months."

Oh dear. A week there. A week back. That would be a total of three months. Susan paused in her packing. "What about Jason?"

"Sister-dear," said Janice on the other end of the line, "Much though I love my little nephew, he's a little on the boisterous side. Don't bring him. He'd only suffer." Which was family code for  _If your little hellion comes anywhere near me, my recovery time will fucking double or I'd bloody kill him._

Susan understood. She did. But all the same... "Poor little Jason hasn't been that great at making friends..." especially not the degree of friends who would welcome him into their homes for a total of three months.  _Toothbrush, toothpaste, hairbrush, nightie..._ "I don't know if there's anyone nearby I could trust like that..."

"Suze... Please. Mom can't keep up and you have, like, experience."  _Dealing with Jason and his shenanigans means you got this covered, sis._

Susan paused, staring out the bedroom window. The bedroom window with a view of the gigantic tree house. The gigantic tree house that was the house of Taako Taaco, one of the Seven Birds and headmaster of Taako's Amazing School of Wizardry, Cantrips, and Assorted Magics. If anyone could care for her darling Jason, it would have to be Taako.

She did not, for one instant, trust her husband on the task. The instant she left, they would be gorging themselves on all the unhealthiest food they could grab. The two of them made more mess than she could imagine and just left it for her. With Jason somewhere else, her husband could at least be relied upon to clean up his own messes.

It was decided. Jason  _had_ to stay with someone else for the three months she was gone.

_Your Honourable Sir Headmaster Taako Taaco,_ she wrote.

_It is with my regret that I must entrust you with my precious baby Jason. I have urgent family business that will take me away from my home for a period no longer than three months. Of course your extensive expertise and training is ideal for the challenges that rearing such a unique child as my Jason._

She spent an hour writing a list of instructions on his diet, bedtime, homeschooling, playtimes and so forth. Then added another twenty minutes on the somewhat gross details of Janice's operation and why she needed someone to take care of her Jason for the interim.

Jason could not listen to any of her explanations, he had his mind on many, many other things. So she pinned the note to his coat and left him at Taako's door before heading off at all due speed. Under the weight of a guilty conscience.

* * *

 

Susan could barely sleep for two days on the airship to the distant city where her sister lived[1]. After that, she passed out in her cabin for the soundest sleep she had ever had since Jason was born. She woke lazily and felt so rested that she had to wonder if she hadn't died and woken in Paradise.

The airship staff had left her a very nice breakfast and the ships' counsellor.

"First time away from home in a while?" they said.

Susan yawned and stretched, feeling better than she ever had after half a bottle of wine. "You're right. How did you know?"

"There's signs. How old is your little one?"

"Fourteen. Fourteen and he needs me  _so_ much." Susan started gushing about her special baby boy. About how much of a genius he was. About how helpless he was and how much he needed her for everything. How his genius mind was always on something else. How she did everything for him.

How worried she was that she had to go leave him in the care of someone else - a relative stranger, true - but a definite expert in high standing. Of course this would finally be his gateway into far more elite corners of education and the bottom rungs of his ladder to success.

All Jason needed was a helping hand. Just one lucky break for the world to see him just the way she did. He could be great, he really could, but the rest of the world just... kept getting in his way. All he needed was just...  _one..._ chance.

"You left him with a professional?"

"Oh yes," she said, "Taako Taaco, one of the Seven Birds of Story and Song." Susan primped. This was her only claim to fame.

"I'm sure that you may have already let your son have his greatest chance."

She decided to enjoy relaxing for the rest of the trip. Even if she did feel guilty for leaving on every other hour.

* * *

 

 

That was pretty much how it went for the entire three months she was away from her home. Calling her husband every night to make sure he was looking after himself and if he'd seen anything happening over in the grounds of Casa de Taako.

Kyle wasn't that useful, unfortunately. He was spending most of his days with the boys, talking and drinking like Susan would never let him do when she was at home. Playing cards and likely having a smoke or two. One time she called and he was going out for some entertainment involving dancing ladies raising money for a few things - like more clothes.

He never looked over at Casa de Taako nor paid any attention to what any of the neighbours were doing at all. He hadn't heard a word from the elven headmaster. Hadn't noticed a damn thing. Their son could be dead in a ditch and he'd have never seen a thing. She was worrying herself to pieces.

Surely  _someone_ should have contacted her about her dear darling baby Jason by now. The poor mite was probably beside himself wondering where his mama was. Was Taako even trying to read him a bedtime story or cycling his bedtime stuffed toy like she'd told him? Was he sticking to the vegan, gluten-free superfoods she outlined in her letter?

As far as she was concerned, no news was all bad news.

And then she finally got home...

* * *

 

 

"It's okay, Mom. You did all the cooking. It's only fair I do the washing."

Dad laughed and leaned back in his chair. "You gonna get some nail polish to match that work, son?" and brayed at his own joke like the jackass he was.

Jason ignored the alleged comedy. "Naw, nail polish is for nights out. This is more or less how Taako from TV got his start."

Dad mumbled something about Elves and unlikely bedroom practices.

Mom, realising that Jason wasn't putting in his usual effort[2], started to fuss. "Are you sure the water isn't too hot, honey? Don't you want to sit?"

Jason didn't tell her about the ten mile hikes that were a regular part of Taako's survival lessons. "I'm good, Mom. Take a break. You've earned it."

She didn't quit. "But... I've always washed up..."

"Things change, Mom. And tomorrow? I'll cook dinner and  _Dad_ can wash up."

Dad stopped braying as if he hit a brick wall. "Wait. I'm doing what?"

"Your father can't wash dishes, sweetie..."

"Oh he can learn, Mom.  _I_ learned. And if I can learn, Dad can learn."

Dad tried another joke. "I'll just break them all."

"And pay for the new set Mom's always wanted," added Jason.

Suddenly, planned incompetence wasn't that hilarious any more. Dad glared at him and Jason glared right back. Villain to villain, but Dad broke first. "I should'a known better'n to go against a bona-fide genius. Yeah, I'll wash up tomorrow night.  _If_ you cook anything decent."

Joke was on him. Jason had learned from literally the best chef in one hundred planar systems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Because anyone who knows Jason wants to live as far as possible away from him.
> 
> [2] Pathetic.


	99. Reader Request #22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FifiMae on Chapter 90:
> 
> Some shapeshifting creature disguised as Angus: Hello Sirs! :)  
> Taako almost immediately: THAT'S NOT MY BABY!

It had to be a particularly strong sleep spell, cast by some creature at Skull-level proficiency. Angus knew because Elves were naturally immune to sleep spells, and both he and Papa had fallen at least into a hazy daze. Angus couldn't even cry out when the unseen figures literally dragged him away from Papa.

Papa, similarly weak, could only raise his hand and mumble something incoherent. It was all there in his eyes. He was fighting it with everything he had, and that wasn't enough.

_My mother said I never should/ Play with the faeries in the wood..._

When city folk talk about fairies, they spell them with an I and think of tinkly little cherubs in tutus that grant wishes. Which only serves as a prime example of how bowdlerism can cause harm in the long run.

_Your hair won't curl and your shoes won't shine..._

Faeries are quite different to fairies. For a start, they're a lot more bloodthirsty and they never grant wishes. They take children, play with madmen, and create deals that seem simple but end in complications, and take things very _very_ literally whilst encouraging others to believe in the figurative version of the same words.

_Oh my dear, you won't be mine..._

At least when an Elf stole a baby, they had a vested interest in keeping the child alive. Faeries... they could do anything with a kid. They could make them dance until they collapsed. Feed them sweets until they withered away. Or simply trap them in a fantasy version of reality and eat their lives second by second. They could play games where death was one of the prizes, always on offer, always strived for, but never given. They could make a person suffer and suffer and _suffer_ and act like they should be grateful.

Faeries seemingly had a limited understanding of life on the prime material plane, mixing up fact and fiction. Mixing up metaphor with literality. Mixing everything up until it was nothing but a huge mess, then putting people in that mess, and watching what happened so they could laugh at it.

As soon as he had control of himself back, he would try to trick them. He would try to escape. But that, too, might be part of the game.

* * *

 

 

Taako had only spent a day ion the mortal realms before charging into the Faewild. One day to prepare. The Faeries could make that time be anything from two seconds to twenty years if they wanted to. Time was one of the many things they could manipulate. Time, space, the truth, reality... they were all playthings to the Fae.

Now he strode through the Faewild, True Sight cast on himself and Krav close behind with the ball of twine, carefully unspooling it. Together, none of the illusions of the Faewild could reach them. They headed unerringly towards the closest Fae court. Those with eyes to see would perceive cold rage boiling off of both of them like mist off a hot road in the rain. Those who did have eyes to see it left them a wide berth.

Those who did not... were about to be in a world of trouble.

Taako had his famous Umbrastaff. He had his KrEbStAr. He had an assortment of magical items in ready reach by his side and he also had a box.

Those Fae scouts sent out to see and report were truly _worried_ about the box. It could, for instance, contain anything at all. Judging by the wards surrounding it, it had to contain something _far worse_ than a rampaging Elf, his Reaper husband, and a metric shit-ton of heavily magical weaponry. Thus, the court was in something of a panic when Taako and Kravitz arrived.

"You got three seconds to give him back," Taako demanded.

The court appeared to cower, and one Fae pulled aside a curtain just as Taako's True Sight faded out. There, on the other side of the curtain, was the small boy in neat clothes who smiled as he saw them. Or at least, it seemed like that.

"Hello, sirs," said the apparently small boy.

Taako snarled, "THAT'S NOT MY BABY," and pulled open the box.

A man named Schroedinger once concocted a thought experiment in which a cat in a box could exist in one of two states: alive or dead. Later, a man named Pratchett conceived of the third potential state - bloody furious. Taako had managed to come up with a fourth:

High on catnip and ready to play to death with anything that moved.

The cat named Asshole emerged in a whirling ball of claws, teeth, and doom for Faekind. Faeries scattered to the four winds, including the one under the Glamour that made him look like Angus McDonald.

Kravitz turned skeletal so that he could narrow down the location of Angus' soul.

In less than twenty minutes, the Fae would be begging them to take Angus away. Not that they called him Angus. Their sweet baby boy had given them the name of Ainsel instead of giving them his own name. Such a good boy.

"Papa," Angus sighed, running for his arms.

Kravitz welcomed him too. "There's our boy. There's our beautiful magic boy..."

They decided to take Asshole back after the Fae started offering payments to do so.


	100. Reader Request #23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wanderingwaffle on Chapter 91:
> 
> Happy New Year, and a lovely chapter!  
> If you don't mind me making a request... how about a chapter where THB are adventuring and whatnot, and they open a door to a chamber only to reveal the goddess that is The Final Pam. THB are confused (and, slightly worried?) but Pam knows what's UP oR something (saw a drawing online, thought you might enjoy it :D). Keep up the great work!

Lucretia hadn't paid attention to the mysterious pod from space when it flew into the Teeth. It hadn't mattered because there were mere months until the Hunger showed up and everything was due to go to shit. She hadn't heard anything more about it until a mysterious outbreak of mountain sects got themselves noticed. Gnolls, Gerblins, Kobolds, they all changed their habits to worship The Ultimate One. They were the usual amount of trouble that Gerrblins, Gnolls and Kobolds were, but they started getting organised. They started getting _smarter._

They started TPK'ing bands of baby adventurers.

Therefore, Lucretia sent her best team into the Teeth to find and sort out this Ultimate One for the good of future adventuring parties everywhere.

Unfortunately, the Ultimate One had apparently anticipated this and strewn the only approaches to their lair with every kind of death trap the most sadistic DM could imagine. They barely made it in alive, laying waste to Kobolds, Gerblins, and Gnolls, left, right, and centre.

_Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered..._

A long rest helped a lot, but all three of them were pretty much sick of everything in this dungeon by now. Especially the matter of the last door. It wasn't locked. It wasn't trapped. It had a simple turnwheel mechanism for a lock. Any given idiot could open it, and since THB weren't _exactly_ idiots, they spent a significant amount of time debating whether or not they should actually open it. The debate raged for quite some time until Magnus said, "You know what? Fuck it. I'm opening the door."

It opened easily enough, which was half the problem. Doors that were easy to open always had something really nasty waiting on the other side.

Fog fountained out from the other side. Just plain, ordinary, atmospheric fog. Somewhere, some theme music started to play. The trio of adventurers readied their heaviest hits as a humanoid figure emerged.

She was a reasonably stout human female dressed in a rich, red, floor length gown and exterior corset. She had a popped, feather collar and dark glasses over her eyes. Her mouth was wide and smiling and her face was marked with numerous scars. "Hello, boys," she said, voice more gravelly than Fantasy Batman's. "How goes the adventuring, the horny boys? Not so good, I think."

"Oh shit," said Taako, always a step or two ahead on these things.

"Huh?" said Merle, always five steps behind.

"Remember cycle eighty six?" prompted Magnus. "She said she had an escape plan, remember?"

Merle's eyes bugged out, then Merle almost bugged out. "Oh... shit..."

"Next time, you invite Pam," said Pam.

"We literally couldn't," said Taako, negotiating for an entire planet's lives. "That's not how it worked. You weren't part of the launch pattern, so you couldn't have escaped on my ship."

"We broke our hearts trying," said Merle. "Cycle nine. We loaded the ship up with kids and they just... they just vanished. Cycle twelve, we tried an immobilisation charm. Same thing. We put them in stasis. We tried baleful polymorph. Everything. We could not take you with us."

"No matter how much we wanted to," added Taako. What he didn't say was how much they hadn't wanted to. Pam was the unstoppable force and the only one they'd met who even made a dent in the Hunger before the Starblaster crew came up with the shielding spell to end all shielding spells.

Pam was running an insight check, as they knew she would. They were telling the truth, and only omitting the bits that would make Pam angry. Nobody would like what happened when Pam was angry. In fact, some of them hadn't escaped what she had done the last time she was angry.

It was a very nervous minute as she made up her mind.

"Fine," she said. "I will fix the cults," she brandished a hammer. "You help Pam in return, yes?"

They were quick to agree.

"I want an island, the horny boys. A nice, spacious island with pretty home and new husband. You find for Pam, yes?"

They were _very_ quick to agree. The island and the pretty home would be the biggest problem. It was well known that Pam would marry literally anything. It was worth it just to keep her quiet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not the end of the prompted tales! I have nine in my inbox which will be appearing in the sequel anthology: Still Tumbl'd, Still TAZ.
> 
> I want to thank all of you for the kudos and kind comments that have given me a reason to keep going even when I was having some of the worst days of this year. Y'all are beautiful people - keep on keeping on.
> 
> As always, if you want to support me in other ways, check out my hub site internutter (dot) org for all the details of my alleged life, all the projects I have running, and things I do for laughs. Which reminds me, I should update my menu over there to link to my YouTube channel.


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